Renewed
by fyd818
Summary: Temari Sabaku is running from the ghosts of her past. Itachi Uchiha is grimly facing the reality of his future. One encounter on the ship of dreams can change it all... A story of hope, forgiveness, and true love in times of tragedy. :Itachi x Temari:
1. Southampton

Disclaimer: I don't own _Naruto_, nor any places, people, things, nor ideas therein. They belong to Masashi Kishimoto, Viz Media, Shonen Jump, and TV Tokyo. I am writing this story for entertainment purposes _only_, not monetary gain.

Summary: Temari Sabaku is running from the ghosts of her past. Itachi Uchiha is grimly facing the reality of his future. One encounter on the ship of dreams can change it all... A story of hope, forgiveness, and true love in times of tragedy. :Itachi x Temari:

Rating: T

Warnings: Violence, character death

Pairings: Itachi/Temari, slight Neji/Tenten

**Dedication:** To the great ship _Titanic_, which lives on in our minds, and to the fifteen hundred who were lost on the night of April 15, 1912, who live on in our hearts.

**Author's Note:** I want to say straight off that this is _not_ a retelling of the movie _Titanic_. Having said that, it was - at least in part - _inspired_ by that wonderful movie, and also by the novel _By the Light of the Silver Moon_ by Tricia Goyer. I knew from the moment I became interested in the _Titanic_ and her history that I _had_ to do a tribute fic on the hundredth anniversary of its sinking. I cannot picture this story told by any other than Temari and Itachi (and, in part, by Neji and Tenten - they are my favorite couple in _Naruto_, so I had to give them at least a little part in the story), and I hope you enjoy reading their story as much as I'm enjoying writing it. I cannot promise a steady update schedule - bad things happen when I do! - but I can promise that I will get updates out to you as soon as I can. Thank you all so much for joining me on this journey, and I hope you enjoy it!

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***~Renewed~***

_.:fyd818:._

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***~Chapter I~***

_~Southampton~_

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Wednesday, April 10, 1912 - 11:24 A.M

"Are _all_ these people getting on board?"

At her brother's question, Temari Sabaku blinked out of her private ruminations and looked around, just then comprehending the sheer number of people crowding the dock in Southampton, England. "I doubt it," she replied. "Most of them are probably here to see those on the ship off. It _is_ a historical moment, you know." Standing on tiptoe, she peered over the head of the woman in front of her, trying to see all the way to the second class boarding ramp. Already she'd been in line for almost two hours, and it felt like the line had barely moved.

Kankuro Sabaku shifted nervously on his feet, gazing around with uneasy dark eyes. "I wish I could go with you," he said. "But I could never forgive myself if-"

Reaching out, Temari laid a reassuring hand on her brother's shoulder. "I'll be _fine_, Kankuro. I promise. You're seeing me off here, and Gaara is already on the other side of the Atlantic waiting for me. And you've heard the same reports as me! It will only take me a week to get from here to there. And I'm sure there's very little on the _Titanic_ that could go wrong. Troublemakers will be at the bare minimum, if there are any at all."

"I just _hate_ the thought of your traveling by yourself at all. If only I'd gotten you a ticket for first class..." Kankuro shook his head.

Sighing, Temari rolled her eyes. "You weren't even supposed to get me a ticket for _second_ class. Now it's going to be even longer before you can come to America."

"As long as I'm sure you're safe, Temari, I'm willing to wait." Kankuro's expression was as decidedly stubborn as it had been the last time they'd had this conversation. And the time before that. And the time before that. _And_ the time he brought her the second class ticket, insisting he would feel better if she were there instead of third class - the place in which she'd originally intended to travel.

Reminded of the reason why she was leaving England in the first place, Temari turned as best she could in the crush of people and gazed back toward the Southampton skyline. She'd lived there her entire life, and leaving it was one of the hardest things she'd ever done. Not even knowing her youngest brother was waiting for her in America was helping her feel more at ease about the situation. "Do you think it doesn't bother me, knowing that even though I'm going to be safe, you might not be? I don't want to go, Kankuro."

Giving her a little push, Kankuro nodded with a reassuring grin. "I'll be _fine_," he stressed. "And _you're_ going to be on the maiden voyage of the biggest, safest ship in the _world_. Come on, Temari. You should be enjoying yourself. Think of this as a vacation! You need one. You've been saying so for the past ten years."

_True._ But still... "I wish you could come with me. Maybe I should wait until-"

But Kankuro was still shaking his head. "No. You're getting on the _Titanic_, and you're going to America, where I can be _sure_ you're safe."

Despite the fact that Temari was the oldest Sabaku sibling, Kankuro had always treated her like a younger sister who needed protecting. The youngest, Gaara, had followed suit, at least as long as he lived in England with them. At least after the two of them had safely stowed him aboard a ship three years past _that_ had calmed down, even if he still managed to continue the feeling through his letters.

"Now, don't forget to write me," Kankuro said as their line shuffled its way along a little closer to the massive ship. "I'm sure you'll have nothing else to do on board." He laughed when Temari gave him a slight shove with her shoulder.

"I'll be sure to send you a telegram when I reach America, too," Temari said. "That way news will reach you sooner when I get there than it would if I sent you a letter." She clutched her hat as a sudden vicious burst of wind swept across the crowd, tangling its cold fingers in the curls of her blonde hair not secured by her hat.

"Good." Kankuro caught her by the shoulder and pulled her in for a quick kiss on her cheek. "And now, sister dearest, it is time for you to board. Have a safe journey."

The first true effects of nervousness, which she had managed to stave off until now, bloomed in Temari's stomach. She swallowed hard, surprised by the nausea that was suddenly welling into her throat. A first sign of seasickness, perhaps, even though she was not even on board the ship yet? "Kankuro, don't make me go," she begged. "I can-"

"_No._ Please, Temari. I'll sleep so much better at night knowing you're safe. Nothing can touch you on the _Titanic_, and when you reach America, you'll have Gaara to protect you."

She savagely bit her lip to keep from snapping that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. The last words Kankuro would hear from her in person, at least until he reached America, too, did _not_ need to be caustic ones. "All right. I'll go." Temari returned his kiss, then drew in a deep breath, clutched her carpet bag a little tighter in her gloved hand, and mounted the ramp that would lead her onto the second-class deck.

Temari peeked up at the clock hanging on the wall just inside the door, halfway surprised to see it there, as she stepped foot on the _Titanic_ for the first time. She still had twenty five minutes until the ship was set to sail, so she had time to drop her carpet bag off at her room and come back to the rail to wave goodbye to Kankuro and the general multitude waiting on the docks to wave off the grand ship.

As soon as she stepped into the indoor area of the ship, Temari noted the temperature difference between the outside of the ship and the inside. It was nice and warm inside, and as she briskly made her way through the labyrinth of halls, looking for the room number that lined up with that on her ticket, she started to get a little too warm in her heavy winter coat, one of the nicest pieces of clothing she owned. As she walked, she inhaled the myriad scents that indicated the sheer _newness_ of the _Titanic_: fresh paint that still looked slick and wet, newly cut and polished wood from the floor beneath her feet, and the crispness of freshly laundered sheets on the beds in each room. The second class part of the ship was like nothing she'd ever seen before - she could only _imagine_ what first class looked like!

_Ah, here we are._ Temari tucked her ticket back into the pocket of her coat and opened the door to room 217, wondering what splendors would meet her eyes beyond.

The first thing Temari saw was the sink - she would have running water! The second was the bunk bed sitting against the wall. The third and final was the dark haired woman bumping a large trunk into the narrow space between the head of the bottom bunk and the wall - and she was doing it with her _hip_!

"Oh!" Having noticed Temari standing in the doorway (undoubtedly with her mouth slightly agape), the brunette snapped upwards, belatedly shoving loose strands of chocolate hair into the messy bun at the back of her neck. "I'm so sorry! I didn't want to bother one of the stewards to help me, they're all so busy, and - and you must be my roommate?"

Granted, Temari had known from the start that she would have a roommate. But she had been expecting an older woman, not someone who looked to be around her age, brimming with energy and happiness. "I'm Temari Sabaku?" Her confusion caused her to lose her usual confidence in her speech, and she cursed that sudden weakness.

"I'm Tenten Hyuuga!" Tenten paused, her eyes narrowing a little as her cheeks blushed. "Well, I'm not a Hyuuga _yet,_" she said, suddenly looking down at the floor instead of up at Temari. "But as soon as I make it to America, I will be. Neji went ahead first to get settled, and now that he's sent for me, he's got everything ready so I can come and we can finally get married." She grinned, showing a row of perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth.

Already Temari could tell that, at least as long as she was in her room, there would never be a lack of conversation during her time on the _Titanic_. Surprisingly grateful for the friendly demeanor of her roommate, Temari fully entered the room and set her carpet bag on her own trunk, which sat by the door in all its sad-looking unglory. "I'm going to visit my younger brother," she said, not willing to go into the specifics of the situation with a virtual stranger.

"Wonderful!" Tenten sidled a step closer and lowered her voice when she spoke next. "I'm so glad you're my bunkmate," she said. "I was so afraid that I would have someone who was completely unfriendly, who wouldn't want to give me the time of day."

Since Temari's fears had run something along the same lines, she couldn't help smiling in return. "I had thought the same," she said. "I must admit that it was a great relief to know it is someone quite the opposite I'll be rooming with for this voyage."

Somewhere far above their heads, the sound of the ship's horn bellowed over that of the crowds moving through the ship, and Tenten gave a gasp. "We'd best get to the rail!" she cried. "We'll miss the launch!" Without waiting for a response from Temari, Tenten grabbed her arm and dragged her along, barely giving the blonde a chance to close the door to their room behind her.

_Yes, this is _definitely_ going to be an interesting journey._

***~**Wednesday, April 10, 1912 - 12:01 P.M.**~***

Clinging to the rail with one hand, Temari leaned against it and waved her other arm in a wide arc, hoping Kankuro could see her. Everyone on the dock looked so tiny from her viewpoint far above. She couldn't pick her brother out of the crush, but she was fairly certain he couldn't pick her out, either. But he was down there somewhere, waving, and that's what mattered most.

Next to her, Tenten waved just as enthusiastically, and Temari decided to make conversation. "Are you waving goodbye to someone in particular?"

"No. I've been working here in Southampton as a seamstress until Neji sent for me, and all my coworkers couldn't get off work to come. I'm waving goodbye to England and my past as much as anything." One wide brown eye turned in Temari's direction. "And you? Saying goodbye to anyone in particular?" Tenten flashed another wide smile.

"My brother, Kankuro. I would point him out, but it's impossible to tell one person apart from another down there." Temari was glad she'd taken off her hat and left it in her room since the movement of the _Titanic_ was adding to the wind already coming in off the water. The pins holding her blonde curls up were straining to maintain their grip, and she knew a hat would have already gone sailing away, haptin or no, had she still been wearing it.

"I thought you were going to America to see your brother?" Tenten asked, obviously confused.

"My youngest brother, Gaara," Temari said. "Kankuro is the middle child. I am eldest."

Since they were drawing further away from the dock, Tenten stopped waving. Already people were wandering off around them, the excited buzz of their myriad conversations forming a backdrop to the crash of the water washing against the side of the ship. "I wish I had siblings." Tenten sighed wistfully.

Temari laughed, dropping her arm to drape along the railing as she leaned out a little, marveling at the way the water was churning into white waves behind the ship. Were she not looking at it, she wouldn't even realize she was on a ship, as smooth as the ride was so far. The advertisements in the newspaper had not been exaggerating in the least when they said that the _Titanic_ was the best ship in the world. "If you actually had some, you probably wouldn't be saying that," she replied. "I love my brothers, I really do. But sometimes I _really_ wish I was an only child." Her smile melted away, and she sighed softly. "But in the end, when it truly comes down to it, I wouldn't give them up for anything. They take such good care of me." _And I really don't deserve it. It should be Kankuro here, on board the _Titanic_, instead of me. That's how I had always intended it to be. Gaara would go to America first, then Kankuro, and finally, if there was enough left over, me. This is all wrong. What was I thinking?_

"Over there!"

The sudden shout from above made Temari turn her attention back to the water. She squinted one way and then the other, wondering what had caught the attention of the passenger who had shouted. Only a few seconds later, she saw it: one of the other ships that had been moored at the dock had broken free of its tethers and was headed right for the side of the _Titanic_.

"It's going to hit!" Tenten cried. Her hands were so tight around the rail her knuckles were white.

Temari felt her own hands tighten their grip, her muscles tensing as she braced for the impact that was sure to come. Was this it, then? Was the _Titanic_, which she had been heard called unsinkable, about to be struck by another ship? Despite how steady the ship beneath her feet felt, surely an impact with another ship would cause damage - _serious_ damage.

"It's the _New York_," Temari heard another passenger say. "But even if it hits, that ship's going to be the one to get the damage. Nothing can hurt the _Titanic_."

By Temari's side, Tenten relaxed slightly. "That's true," she said. "Granted, I'd rather the _New York_ not hit us, but we'll come out with the better end, for sure, even if it does."

Despite all the reassurances, Temari found she could not breathe easily until several tugboats had come out, captured the _New York_, and guided it away from the side of the _Titanic_. The whole incident had taken no more than half an hour, but Temari felt almost as if the affair had lasted days. She was shaken by what had just happened, and despite herself she couldn't help but feel like it was an omen. A _very_ bad omen.

The view suddenly held little interest for Temari. Turning away, she placed a steadying hand on her suddenly churning stomach and glanced at Tenten. "I think I'm going to return to my room and rest. Things have been so busy for me, preparing for this trip, I'd just like to sit and do nothing for a while."

Tenten laughed. "All right. But I'm going to go explore!" The two women agreed to meet later for the evening meal, and Temari headed back to her room. She would start her first letter to Kankuro, telling him all about what had just happened with the _New York._ He had probably seen it, or at least heard about it, but he liked stories. He'd enjoy reading her take on the incident.

As she settled at the beautiful wooden desk in her and Tenten's room, Temari knew that once she was in America, she would be able to laugh off all her bad feelings. She was just anxious to be away from England and the ghosts chasing her, that was all.

The ship had two more stops to make: Cherbourg, France, later that evening, and then Queenstown, Ireland, the next morning. Temari was sure that once those stops were out of the way and the _Titanic_ made its way out to open ocean that she would feel better.

But for now, she would stay in her room, distract herself, and look forward to the journey ahead. Temari knew it would be one to remember.

***~To Be Continued~***

_**Author's Ending Notes:**_ Again, this is not intended to be a retelling of the movie _Titanic_, though it was in part inspired by it. I can promise that Itachi will make his first appearance in the next chapter - this and the next are basically just setting the story up, and then the real action will start by chapter three. I am going to try to stay as historically accurate as possible while writing this story, but I will take a few artistic liberties. I will, however, try to keep them at a minimum. Until next time, thank you so much for checking out my story, and I hope you enjoyed chapter one!


	2. Cherbourg

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, ratings, warnings, pairings, etc.

**Author's Note:** Thank you so much to all those who took the time to read the first chapter! I really appreciate your attention. This chapter introduces Itachi and his place in the story, and also holds his and Temari's first encounter. I really hope you enjoy it, and thanks again for taking the time to read _Renewed_!

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***~Chapter II~***

_~Cherbourg~_

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Wednesday, April 10, 1912 - 6:37 P.M.

"It's a good thing _Titanic_ was late, or we might not have made it in time."

Itachi Uchiha nodded distractedly at his brother's comment as he strained his neck, trying to get an idea of the size of the White Star Line's crowning jewel. Since the port in Cherbourg was too small to house such a massive ship, the _Titanic_ was hovering out in the water, waiting for smaller ships to be rowed out to her to load passengers. Already the first two were being loaded with luggage, with an impressive line of people waiting to board. His family, being the only first-class one to board at Cherbourg, would be one of the first to make their way from land to the floating city.

"They'll start loading the boats with passengers soon," Itachi's mother, Mikoto, mentioned. She stood on her tiptoes, hanging on to her husband Fugaku's arm for balance, as she followed her elder son's gaze out toward the _Titanic_. "This will be the perfect end to our vacation," she breathed.

"Agreed!" The grin on Sasuke Uchiha's face briefly reminded Itachi of the cheerful, carefree younger brother he'd always enjoyed having around. "England, Italy, Egypt, Germany, France, and now we're going back to America on the grandest ship ever built. I doubt any vacation we'll ever take after this could begin to compare!"

The family's whirlwind trip through Europe (plus Egypt) had been in the planning for almost a year before they finally left. It had been something of a relief to Itachi, who had been released from most of the pressures the Uchiha family's new lifestyle had inflicted upon him. After his father's invention (and subsequent patent and sales) of a new and safer way to produce steel for railroads, he, his wife, and their sons had been catapulted into high society and a lifestyle they really weren't ready for. They no longer fit in with the working class, their humble beginnings, but the "old money" blue bloods didn't really accept them, either. All this had put incredible pressure on Itachi to make a marriage match with a high-class woman that would essentially assure them a full entrance into the society which, ironically, their money could not buy.

But now he was returning to America and his nightmare. Once he returned, it would be back to the balls and dinners and teas and wooing that had rapidly become the bane of his life.

Itachi hoped his family would forgive him if he seemed a little less than enthusiastic about boarding the R.M.S._ Titanic_.

Pushing those gloomy thoughts away, Itachi stared across the water that separated the dock and the ship. The _Titanic_, he had to admit, was something to behold, even after dark. It looked like every light she had was ablaze, sparkling off the water in a fabulous display. She towered over every other ship that was close to her, and even though it was now dark, and very cool outside, people lined the rails, waving and smiling and shouting happily. It was everything the White Star Line had promised in the newspaper advertisements - and more. It was breathtaking, awe-inspiring, magnificent.

Mikoto touched Itachi's sleeve as Fugaku started guiding her forward. "Grab your slack-jawed brother," she said on a laugh. "It's time to board!"

Shaking himself out of his awe, Itachi grasped Sasuke's shoulder and pulled him along as he followed his parents through the crush of people lining the docks. Though there were a fair few people boarding the ship at Cherbourg, most of the crowd had come out in hopes of catching even a glimpse of the _Titanic_ and her prominent travelers. Itachi knew that some of the most famous and rich people in the world were on board (he had to keep reminding himself that his family counted among that number now, too), including John Jacob Astor, the richest man in the world, who had been one of the first to back Fugaku's invention. Itachi had rather liked the man, and hoped to be able to exchange at least a few words with him on the trip. Astor and his young wife, Madeleine, were in the middle of a scandal of their own - it would hurt neither of their reputations to be seen talking with each other.

Once on board the boat that would carry them across the watery space beween the dock and the ship, Itachi kept one ear focused on his brother's excited chatter as he watched the _Titanic_ come ever-closer. It had looked huge from the dock, but as they drew alongside, he realized it was more than that - it was _massive._ He idly wondered how many people it took to keep such a ship going, and made a mental note to ask as soon as possible.

A boarding ramp was lowered from the _Titanic_ to the boat on which the Uchiha family waited, and Itachi held one of his mother's hands as Fugaku took her other, helping steady her as she stepped onto the ramp. She let out a soft laugh as she slid her hand into the crook of Fugaku's arm and headed upwards. Itachi smiled and shook his head - sometimes it was hard to tell who was more excited about the trip, Mikoto or Sasuke.

"Go on, little brother. You next." Itachi gave him a gentle shove, waiting until he was a few steps ahead until he started up himself. He took one last look down the length of the ship, the final view of the outside from this angle that he'd have until they reached America, and then hurried up the ramp. He tried not to think about how high in the air they were, or the unimaginable amount of water beneath them. He'd be all right once he was on the ship, and inside. He would just try really hard not to think about they fact that they were on the water.

He just hoped that the _Titanic_ was as smooth a sailor as advertised.

The first thing Itachi noticed as he stepped into the first class reception room was the smell. New paint, freshly sanded wood, cured leather - he drew in a deep breath, closing his eyes. It really struck him then that he was on board the _Titanic's_ maiden voyage. He was one of the first people to walk across these floors, sit in these chairs, _see_ these paintings. It made a little shiver of excitement run up his spine.

"Have you ever seen anything like this, big brother?" Sasuke breathed. He looked like a little kid as he stared around with wide-eyed awe, taking in as much as he could as Itachi grabbed his arm and guided him along. They passed a breathtakingly beautiful staircase and the hall leading to the lounge and women's writing room before boarding the lift that would take them down two decks to their adjoining staterooms - one for Fugaku and Mikoto, and the next for Itachi and Sasuke. It was Itachi's first time in a lift, and he marveled at the weightlessness he felt as they descended, catching more tantalizing glimpses of opulent beauty as they went. Itachi knew that Sasuke would want to start exploring as soon as possible, and decided he'd offer to go along.

"The evening meal has already been served," the steward guiding them said as the lift gates rattled open. "But a repast will be offered in the staterooms of all those who wish it after the _Titanic_ is once more under way."

Reaching into his pocket, Itachi pulled out his watch and glanced at it - a little after seven. He was still feeling a little sick after the ride across in the small boat, and shook his head mutely when his father glanced at him. He'd wait until breakfast the next morning and hope for the best.

Pausing in front of a door - the sixth down and across from the elevator, Itachi quickly memorized - the steward opened the door and bowed. "Your room sir, milady," he said. As Fugaku and Mikoto entered, he went next door and opened that door. "Your room, sirs."

Sasuke went right in, but Itachi paused in the doorway. It looked nothing at all like he'd expected - he'd expected something like the rooms on the ship they'd come across from New York on. But what he was seeing looked more like the hotel rooms in which they'd stayed on their trip. It matched the rest of the ship perfectly in both size and opulence.

"What time is the ship set to leave Cherbourg?" Itachi heard Mikoto ask from the doorway of her room.

"A little after eight local time, milady. Will you be needing anything else?"

"No, thank you."

After checking with Itachi and Sasuke, the steward went on about his duties in other areas of the ship.

"I'm going up to the promenade to watch the departure," Sasuke said. "You want to come?"

Itachi shook his head as he studied the hand-carved desk sitting in the corner of their room. "No," he said. "You go on. I think I'm going to stay here." _And lie down, and try to get rid of this headache. And my sick stomach._ If only there were some way to cross the Atlantic other than by water. Anything had to be better than a ship, even one as grand as the _Titanic_.

Sasuke shrugged, offered Itachi a confused look, then left. Closing his eyes, the elder Uchiha brother breathed in the myriad smells of newness around him, then opened up one of the windows to let fresh, albeit cool, air into the room. From somewhere above him, he heard the ship's horn blow, and knew that meant it wouldn't be too long before the ship was under way.

He'd explore the _Titanic_ tomorrow morning after breakfast. Right now, all he wanted to do was sleep and try to forget how sick he felt now, and everything waiting for him in America.

***~**Thursday, April 11, 1912 - 8:24 A.M.**~***

"It's amazing, Itachi! Granted, I couldn't see much last night on account of it being dark, even though there are _so many_ electric lights on board, but what bits I did see were so amazing! I can't wait to finish breakfast so we can go explore more." Sasuke paused his breakfast commentary long enough to take a bite, giving everyone else at the table time to breathe.

Itachi chuckled. His good night's sleep left him feeling refreshed, and with his nausea down to more manageable levels and his headache gone, he was able to eat more breakfast than he'd originally anticipated. The reports he'd read had not been exaggerated - he could not tell the ship was moving. The ride was so smooth that, as long as he didn't look out a window (which was really hard to do, since they were simply _everywhere_ on the ship), he thought he was still on dry land.

"Where are we off to first, then?" Itachi asked. His younger brother's enthusiasm had sometimes been a point of annoyance when they were boys, but as they grew older he'd learned to appreciate Sasuke's zeal for life and adventure. Being the elder son, Itachi had been groomed first to become a secondary breadwinner for the family, and then after they'd suddenly become quite rich, a way to uphold their honor and excellence. His time with Sasuke as of recent had become a good way to escape from the pressure and stress and return to a simpler time. One thing had not changed, though - their moments of boyish fun were just as precious now as wealthy men as they had been when they were poor boys.

Sasuke squinted at his eggs, a thoughtful expression on his pale face. "The promenade, I think. I heard some crew members in the hall earlier saying that Captain Smith is going to take the ship through some practice turns to test maneuverability before we get to Queenstown. I want to see what goes on during these things from outside."

Of _course_ Sasuke would choose to do something outside, where they would have a practically unobstructed view of the water. Itachi sighed and took another drink of tea, thankful that it was helping to further settle his stomach.

"It's still cold outside," Mikoto said, having overheard their conversation. "You boys make sure you dress warmly, all right?"

Her sons dutifully nodded, swapping amused grins once Mikoto had returned to her coversation with one of the other occupants of the table. Even though their circumstances had changed, Mikoto was still every inch the same caring, loving mother she'd been when they were children.

"I can't _wait_ until we leave Queenstown," Sasuke continued. "Once we're out at sea, we'll really find out how fast this ship can go. I've heard that they're anticipating being able to go over twenty-two knots! That's faster than any other ship in the world."

"I've heard that both the designer of the ship and the head of the White Star Line are on board," Itachi said. "Maybe we'll have a chance to talk to one of them and find out some other technical aspects of the _Titanic_." He was more interested in the ship's crew than its design, but Sasuke had taken more after their father and had been spending the past few years fixating on one item and finding out how it was built and how it worked. Once he had learned all he could about that item, he moved on to something else new and exciting and mysterious. Ever since they'd booked passage on the _Titanic_, Sasuke had been doing as much research as he could to find out more about the ship. Itachi was just glad he couldn't take it apart, as he'd done several mechanical things inside their house in America before Mikoto caught on and put a stop to it.

Dark eyes lighting up, Sasuke grinned and nodded. "That would be great," he enthused.

Before Itachi even had a chance to swallow his last bite, Sasuke had excused both of them from the table and dragged him off toward the elaborately grilled doors leading into and out of the dining saloon. Once in the reception room, they went up the Grand Staircase and out onto the open promenade, where a stiff breeze ruffled their hair and stung their cheeks.

"Mother wasn't kidding," Itachi said, tucking his hands into the pockets of his coat. "It _is_ cold out here." He wished that he had thought to pick up a hat before they left their room for breakfast.

His brother didn't seem to feel the cold as he rushed to the rail, leaning over slightly to look straight down into the churning water. "Wow! Itachi, come here!" He lifted one hand long enough to wave over his shoulder.

Sighing, Itachi folded his lips firmly together and ventured across the deck to stand next to his brother. Beneath them, the ship's movement had worked the water into a white, frothy foam, churning endlessly until it reached the massive wake left behind. He didn't see what was so interesting about the water, but he made himself watch for a few seconds before he pulled away and turned back toward the ship.

Along the deck, chairs had been set out in groups or by twos along the length of the promenade. He smiled as some of the other adventurous passengers came outside, laughing and chattering as they walked along or found seats in which to enjoy a cup of hot broth and biscuits. He wouldn't want to join any of them, as the air was so cold, but he had to admit that they all made attractive pictures.

Sasuke knocked arms with his brother, recapturing Itachi's attention. "Come on," he said. "Let's go up to the boat deck. We can be one of the first ones up there and have the best seat in the house when we come up on Queenstown."

Itachi followed, taking note of the gymnasium as they passed by it. As soon as they made it as far forward as they could go, Itachi gazed down at the second-class deck below and to his left as Sasuke once again returned to staring out over the water. Since there wasn't much going on where he was watching, Itachi turned to look up and to his right, where the forwardmost smokestack towered over them. Shielding his eyes from the sun's glare, Itachi squinted up to the very top, where huge columns of iron-grey smoke stretched along over top of the _Titanic_'s massive body. "Wow," he muttered. How many people were belowdecks, shoveling coal into hot fires to keep the ship moving? His father would chastise him for the thought, but Itachi didn't care. Even though it seemed the rest of his family was trying to forget their humble beginnings, _he_ didn't want to forget about the fact that there were hundreds of people who were working to make sure their trip was lavish and comfortable.

To keep from looking down at the water again, Itachi turned his attention toward the closest cloth-covered lifeboat secured to the deck. Leaning around his brother, he silently counted down the deck, then thought about it and did it again.

"Sasuke?"

"Hmm?" His brother hummed an obviously distracted noise as he continued watching the water, as if waiting for something.

"How many people would you say were on board?"

"Passengers?"

"_And_ crew."

Finally looking away from the water at last, Sasuke squinted in the way he did when he was doing mental calculations. "Around two thousand or so, I guess. Well, as soon as we finish picking up passengers at Queenstown, and the last few who are going to get off do so. Why?"

Itachi indicated the closest lifeboat. "From what I remember last night, and recounting today, there aren't enough lifeboats on board for everyone."

Sasuke looked over at the boat, then back at his brother with a dubious expression on his face. "You _have_ heard what people are saying, right? This ship is built to be unsinkable. It's law for there to be lifeboats on board. In fact, counting them now, there are even four more than they're required by law to have. We won't need them." Apparently considering the conversation over, he turned back to the water.

Sighing, Itachi finally tore his gaze away from the lifeboats and turned back to the second-class deck below. More people were venturing out the closer to eleven o'clock - and Queenstown - they got, and now the deck was full of people dressed in a bright array of colors. Though their finery wasn't as high-quality as those in first-class, Itachi admired a dress here or a hat there. _Titanic_ really had gathered some of the most amazing and interesting people in the world for her maiden voyage.

"Hey, Sasuke. I'm going to go explore more of the inside of the ship. Do you want to come with me, or do you want to stay out here?" It had already been almost an hour since the brothers had come outside, and Itachi was getting cold. "There's still almost an hour before we're supposed to get to Queenstown. We can come back out when we get there, if you want."

"Okay." Sasuke laughed as they turned and headed toward the nearest entrance into the ship's interior. "I suppose we _had_ better look around a bit inside. That's supposed to be the best part of the ship, right?"

Itachi nodded wordlessly, feeling prickles in his face and hands as his skin readjusted to the warmth of the interior of the ship. Once again, he immersed himself in carpets, tiles, paintings, and wood paneling as they made their way through the first class accomodations. He made a mental note to go study the gymnasium closely later; spent more time than Sasuke wanted to in the library; admired the gentlemen's smoking room and the ladies' writing rooms from the doorway; and finally found themselves in the lounge, where they met up again with their parents. He resigned himself to waiting until later to see the much-advertised Verandáh Café and the A La Carte Restaurant, in which he hoped to have at least one meal apiece. Sasuke was excited about the on-board heated swimming pool, but Itachi decided he'd conveniently find something else to do when his little brother planned a visit.

Fugaku and Mikoto introduced their sons to Isador and Ida Strauss, the owners of the Macy's department store in America. They were soon caught up in conversation, and before they realized it, the ship's horn blew to alert that passengers were coming on board.

"We're missing it!" Sasuke quickly made his excuses and stood to leave. Itachi sighed and followed suit, grinning at his own reluctance as he once again got swept up in his brother's excitement. He had to admit that it was interesting to see the little ships making their way between the shore and the _Titanic_, then back around. It had been hard to see the night before, when it was dark. But now that it was light out, he could see just how huge the difference in size was between the small boats and the _Titanic_.

They wound up having to go back inside for lunch, but fortunately they made it back out to the boat deck in time to see the ship pull up anchor and head out to sea around 1:30 in the afternoon. As long as they'd been stopped at Queenstown, the temperature outside hadn't been too bad. But now that they were moving again, the wind caused by the movement of the ship was making it cold again.

"Let's go down to the promenade," Itachi said. "We'll be better shielded down there from the wind."

"There's not much going on now anyway," Sasuke said. Reluctantly, he followed his older brother back into the ship and down a couple of decks to the promenade.

But as they came out of the door, Itachi stopped. "This isn't right."

"What?" Sasuke popped around him and looked, his brow furrowing. "You're right. I've never seen this part of the ship before. Where are we?"

Itachi looked around, trying to find something familiar to get his bearings. Really, he and Sasuke had been fortunate not to get lost before now, since the _Titanic_ was so big, and its halls so much of a labyrinth. "I think we went down too far. I'm pretty sure we're in second class."

"Since we're here, we'd might as well explore," Sasuke said. Tucking his hands into his pockets, he started off down the hall.

Hesitating, Itachi glanced over his shoulder before following. "We shouldn't be down here, Sasuke. I'm surprised we even made it without running into someone to keep us out."

"It will be _fine_, Itachi. They're doing tours of the ship for people up in first class, anyway. We're just taking the initiative and doing it on our own." Seeming completely unconcerned, Sasuke continued his languid stroll down the halls.

"I'm pretty sure that tour doesn't include this area. It looks like we're close to the second-class staterooms." The doors were numbered here, basically mirroring their first-class counterparts above.

"We're bound to come out in some of the more public areas soon. Come on, Itachi, where's your sense of adventure?"

_I think I left it back on land._ Itachi sighed again. "All right. But we're not staying long, you hear?"

"Of course not, big brother."

Since they were in the area with staterooms, the ship was surprisingly quiet. The vibration from the ship's engines was a little more noticeable here as a slight tremor in the deck beneath Itachi's feet, but for the most part it seemed as smooth sailing below as it was above. He admired the paint and wood accents in second class - though not as intricate as in first class, it was still very tastefully arranged.

"Whoa!" Sasuke suddenly flattened himself against the wall ahead of Itachi, who was not able to move quite as fast since he was distracted. Before he realized what was going on, a blur shot around the corner and ran head-first into his chest, sending them both reeling back.

"Oh! I'm - I'm so sorry!" Without looking up, the woman who'd nearly knocked Itachi over offered a quick curtsy, then took off down the hall in the direction from which he and Sasuke had just come. A moment later, one of the doors opened and then shut.

"What was that about, do you think?" Sasuke, who was quite obviously trying not to snicker at his brother's look of consternation, asked.

"I have no idea." Itachi glanced over his shoulder. He hadn't gotten a good look at the woman, but he was certain of two things. She had been wearing a blue dress, and she had the most beautiful sandy gold hair that he'd ever seen. He was uncertain about the other thing he thought he'd noticed about her, but if his quick glimpse of her face had been true, she had been absolutely terrified.

_She was running from something,_ Itachi thought grimly. He and Sasuke turned and headed back toward first class in silent but mutual agreement, each puzzling over their own thoughts on the brief encounter they'd just had with the blonde woman. _The question is, what could she possibly have to be afraid of on a ship as grand and safe as this?_

***~To Be Continued~***

_**Author's Ending Notes:**_ I promise chapter three will explain things a bit better with the return to Temari's point of view. I really enjoyed this chapter, and I hope I'm not boring you with some of the more technical aspects of the story. Like I said, I'm trying to be as historically accurate as possible, and I'm also trying to do a good job describing their surroundings and such. I've put a lot of time, effort, thought, and research into this story, and I hope that's translating through okay. Thanks again for reading, and I'll see you next chapter!


	3. Enemies

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairings, etc.

**Special Thanks:** goes out to _PrettyInPink_ for your review! Your kind words really did make my week, thank you!

**Author's Note:** In this chapter, we return to Temari's point of view. I've answered a few questions and presented a few more, and I really hope that you all enjoy this chapter. Thanks again to all those who have taken the time to read and give _Renewed_ a chance. See you all next chapter, and I hope you all like this one!

* * *

***~Chapter III~***

_~Enemies~_

* * *

Thursday, April 11, 1912 - 11:04 A.M.

"This is the last stop before we officially head to America. Are you excited?" Tenten leaned over the rail, her wide grin making her eyes sparkle with excitement. It was, basically, a repeat of what she'd done in Southampton, and then Cherbourg.

Temari really didn't know what was so exciting about the crowd below, but she came with Tenten anyway. Once they were far out in the Atlantic and well on their way to America, she would relax. But for now, she couldn't afford to let herself do so. It was too dangerous. "I suppose. With all these stops right now, it feels like the trip is taking forever. But once we're out in open ocean, they'll speed up and it will feel much faster, I guess." _I hope_.

"I've heard that _Titanic_ is supposed to be the fastest ship in the world. They're hoping to set a new record on this trip, and I think they can do it." Tenten laughed and waved as two redheaded young men on the dock spotted them and whistled, waving their arms in wide arcs to get attention. "I'm glad we're stopping in Ireland before going on. It wouldn't feel right, I don't think, skipping a stop at the place where this ship was built."

Pushing a loose strand of blonde hair away from her mouth, Temari offered a half-hearted wave to the boys below before scanning the other faces in the crowd. She felt so exposed, standing there, but she didn't know what else to do. Above all, she wanted to act normal, so no one would be suspicious. She wanted to blend in, not stand out. Everything depended on it, and if she were to fail, she wouldn't be the only one suffering the consequences. At least Gaara was already in America...

It would have been so much easier to blend in if she were in third class. Kankuro was trying to keep her safe and comfortable, bless his heart, but Temari felt so exposed in second class. At least she wasn't in first - that _would_ make it obvious she didn't belong. _Just please don't take long loading passengers here. I want to get out in the middle of the Atlantic, where no one can touch me, and no one knows me._

"You know a lot about the _Titanic_," Temari said, trying to make conversation as she shook off her morbid thoughts.

Tenten shrugged, crossing her arms on the rail and leaning against it as she casually scanned the crowd far below. "I started reading up on it when Neji got me the ticket," she admitted. "I'd heard the name before, of course, but I didn't know that much about it." She laughed wryly, shaking her head with obvious amusement. "And now I know more about it than I wish I did. But one thing I _am_ glad to know is that it's safe, and that's good enough for me. I can't wait to get to America and tell Neji all about it. He'll be sorry he missed out."

Running the pad of her right index finger along the rail, Temari cut Tenten a glance out of the corner of her eye. "What's he like, your Neji?" she asked. She told herself that she was just making conversation, that she _wasn't_ jealous of the other woman for having something that she knew nothing about but wanted so badly nonetheless.

As soon as the question left Temari's mouth, Tenten's entire expression softened. Instead of a wide grin of excitement, a soft smile of contentment, love and happiness gently curled her lips, transforming her entire face. "He's gentle, and kind, and thoughtful. But he's also fiercely loyal and protective, and he's everything I've ever wanted but thought I would never get." She sighed, fingering the slightly worn sleeve of her dress as she turned her gaze up toward the sky. "Neji is the nephew of a very prominent businessman in England. But when he met me and announced his intention to marry me, his uncle disowned him. He wanted to take me with him when he went to America, but we couldn't afford to get married yet. So I stayed in England, working as a seamstress, and he went on ahead to get a job and save some money on his end. That was a year ago. And now, here I am!" She laughed, her usual cheerful self once more.

"That's an amazing story," Temari breathed in awe. "I don't think many men would choose a woman over their comfort and money." She had to fight to keep the wistfulness from her tone.

"I know," Tenten said. "When Neji told me what had happened, I made a vow that day to never take him or his love for me for granted. Thinking of all he's given up, just to be with me..." She shook her head. "No, I'll never take him for granted." She blinked, seeming to come out of some memory that had taken her to a faraway place, and then pointed down towards the water. "Look! The boats are rowing across to load passengers."

Temari silently scolded herself for her lapse in attention and turned to look in the direction of Tenten's pointing finger. Sure enough, three boats were making their way from the dock to the _Titanic_, their passengers looking straight up at the ship with faces full of obvious awe, even from this distance. Temari chuckled under her breath, wondering if she'd looked that way the first time she'd seen the ship. No matter now anxious she was, she had to admit that the first time she'd seen the _Titanic_, she had been amazed. It was the most massive thing she'd ever seen in her whole life, and she had a feeling she'd never see anything this size ever again.

Trying to act casual, Temari carefully scanned each face in the boats coming across. Since they were all looking up, staring at the ship, it was easy to do. She let out her breath, feeling herself relax minutely. There was no one familiar, and most - if not all - looked like third class passengers, and the person she was looking for would never travel third class. She was safe!

As soon as she got back to her room, she would write Kankuro another letter. Granted, he wouldn't get it until long after she reached America, but she'd write to him anyway. After all, he was the only one who knew the situation, so by default, he was the only one to whom she could tell her success.

"I'm hungry," Tenten suddenly said, very decidedly. "Now that most of the excitement is over, do you want to go get something to eat? We can come back out later, as the ship is departing. It's getting rather cool out here, and I'd like a chance to warm up, I think."

Now that Temari was assured of her safety, she realized that she really _was_ hungry. She'd been too nervous to eat much at breakfast. "That sounds good."

Arm-in-arm, the two women took off for the second-class dining hall, each lost in her own thoughts of happiness.

***~**Thursday, April 11, 1912 - 1:42 P.M**~***

Temari let out her breath in relief as her last glimpse of Ireland faded into the distance. Now all she could see in every direction was water, endless sparkling blue ocean stretching all the way to the horizon and beyond, and it made her smile contentedly. In less than a week, she'd be in America! While that wouldn't solve all her problems, it would at least help her on her way toward a new start. That in itself was enough of a relief to make her almost giddy.

"The water is so _blue_," Tenten sighed. "So beautiful."

"Hmm," Temari hummed in agreement. She closed her eyes and tilted her head up slightly, letting the wind from the ship's movement blow across her face and tug at her hair. There was a wild freedom in that air, so palpable she could taste it. Oh, how badly she desired that freedom, and she was _so_ _close_ to attaining it! She swallowed back another giddy laugh. For her entire life she'd been so serious, having to be the person that her younger brothers could depend on as a steady, calming influence in their rocky lives. They would both be shocked at her good humor now, though she had a feeling they'd understand.

"You know, Temari, this is the first time I've seen you smile. I mean _genuinely_ smile."

She opened her eyes at Tenten's comment, surprised at the frankness of the other woman's words. "Really?" she asked cautiously. Had she given more of herself away than she'd intended?

"Mm-hmm." Tenten nodded solemnly, no hint of a smile on her face now. "I know we haven't known each other for very long at all, but I want you to know that I already count you as a friend. So if there's ever anything bothering you that you want to talk about, I'm here to listen and help if I can."

Temari swallowed back her immediate instinct to be suspicious. Very few people she'd ever known were honest in their attentions, and even fewer would help without asking for something in return. But only honesty shone in Tenten's sincere, wide brown eyes, and Temari knew that she could trust the other woman unquestioningly.

But _still_... She couldn't take the chance. Enough people were already in danger, and she couldn't add one more to that list. "Thank you, Tenten," she said sincerely. "I appreciate the offer. But I'm fine, really." She hesitated a moment, then offered a shy smile. "I count you as a friend, too, and if you ever have something you need to talk about, I promise I'll listen."

The two of them settled into companionable silence again, enjoying the air and freedom as they admired the water and sky. There was hardly a cloud to be found in the heavens, making it a clear albeit cool day. Even though Temari's cheeks were growing a little numb from the cold, she didn't want to go back inside. She wanted to enjoy her newfound sense of freedom, enjoy being outside again after keeping herself locked away for safety.

Eventually the cold got to be a little too much, though. Tenten mentioned that she was going back inside, and Temari threw one last look toward the horizon - where sparkling blue water met shining blue sky - and then followed her back in to where it was warm.

Once inside, she turned to the left, letting Tenten go her own way as Temari worked her way towards the library. It had been a long time since she'd just sat down with a good book to read, and she thought she'd do that today. There was little else to do, after all, and what better way to escape than to visit another world through a book?

The hum of soft conversation met her ears as she came around the corner and approached the door into the lending library. Already half-lost in in the excitement of finding a book, Temari quickened her steps as she got closer to the doors.

"...Slightly shorter than me, with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. Her name's Temari Sabaku."

She froze, so suddenly yanked out of her dream world by that voice that it was physically jarring.

That had been her description. She had even been described by _name_. Her nightmare had followed her out onto the Atlantic!

Shaking herself out of her panic, Temari slid a few steps forward and peeked into the library. It took no effort at all to spot the man: after all, she must have seen him a thousand times in real life, and just as many (if not more) in her nightmares. She knew beneath that well-cut black jacket he carried a shining silver gun with _For the Betterment of Mankind_ carved into either side of the barrel and detailed with blood red paint. Above the raven color of his coat, his slick hair looked even whiter, a facade of innocence that hid the truth of his heart, which pulsed black and red with evil and an insatiable lust for blood and death.

_Hidan._ Temari had no idea how, when, or where he'd gotten on board, but she should have known. Her freedom would never come, not that easily. She was frightened of Hidan's master, but even her almost crippling fear of him did not come close to the blinding terror she felt every time she encountered Hidan.

Before he could turn around and see her, Temari fled. Her feet kept time with her pounding heart as she blindly raced through the halls, her hysterical mind flipping through possible (and even _im_possible) scenarios with each step. She was on a ship, and even one the size of the _Titanic_ couldn't hide her forever. They would still be on the water five or six days before they reached New York, and she was restricted to the second class sections of the ship. _Maybe_ third class, if she was careful and stealthy. She could go outside and throw herself off the railing and hope death would come quickly, but in reality she just couldn't bring herself to do that to her brothers. Not after all they had done, and were doing, to protect her.

She could also hide in her room for the rest of the trip. But logic dictated that that wouldn't work, either, because she had to eat at some point. And if Hidan were to follow her and corner her when she was alone in her room... She shuddered at the thought.

Her only hope was that Hidan was there to take her back to England. He would be less likely to hurt her that way, but she couldn't be one hundred percent sure about that. Hidan served several purposes in his master's life, and dealing death was definitely one of the most prominent and oft used.

Was she going to die before she reached the safety and freedom of America and her youngest brother's protection? The thought was terrifying in and of itself, and she refused to let herself entertain it any longer than a moment. If she did, the acid bile churning in her stomach would undoubtedly find its release, and that was additional attention she did not need.

As Temari turned another corner, she realized she was close to her and Tenten's room. At least for now she could take shelter there, and it would give her some time to think and plan. Her surroundings blurred, and she realized with surprise that she was on the edge of tears. She couldn't remember the last time she'd cried, not even when-

_Wham!_ The sudden, unexpected impact knocked her back several steps, and she almost landed on her rear. For a moment she thought that Hidan had beat her into the hall, but when she peeked up from beneath her bangs, she instead saw a tall man dressed handsomely, with pale skin, dark eyes, and equally black hair.

"Oh, I'm - I'm so sorry!" She gasped out the apology, knowing she needed to do so before she escaped. The man opened his mouth to say something, but she bobbed a quick curtsy and darted around him before he could give voice to whatever he was going to say. She dug in her pocket as she rounded the next corner, praying all the while that the gentleman wouldn't follow her (his manner of dress, in the short glimpse she'd seen, made her sure he was first class and thus deserved the description), and with shaking hands she unlocked the door and slipped inside safely and unobserved.

Finally letting loose the sob she'd been holding back, Temari locked the door again behind her and slid down it until she was seated on the floor. Covering her face with her still trembling hands, she gave in to the terror that had been hounding her steps all the way from the library - and, even before that, from Southampton.

The freedom she'd felt before was just a cruel sampling of the forbidden real thing she would never have. She was trapped like a cornered animal, and there was nothing she could do to free herself.

One way or another, she was going to die before all this was over. The only question now was if she would find release in death, or if it would be a living one.

***~To Be Continued~***

_**Author's Ending Notes:**_ And so, the plot thickens! I'm so excited about this story, and I'm so thankful to all of you who have taken the time to read and give this fic a chance. I'm planning for there to be somewhere between 15-20 chapters in all, so I'm hoping to keep on a somewhat quick updating schedule. Keep your fingers crossed! In the meantime, I look forward to continuing to tell Temari's story (and, of course, Itachi's), and I'll see you all next chapter!


	4. Friends

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairings, etc.

**Special Thanks:** goes out to _OragamiBlueAngel_, _PrettyInPink_, and _rao hyuga 18_ for your encouraging reviews! Also, huge thanks to everyone who's read this story and put it on their alerts and favorite lists. You all are amazing and wonderful, and I'm so grateful!

**Author's Note:** I'm so sorry for this late update! When I originally wrote this, I was apparently sleep-writing or _something_, because when I went back later to look it over it was a complete and utter _mess_. I couldn't even believe I had wrote it! So I've had to go back and basically re-write it, since I want to give to you the best story I possibly can. But, on the other hand, this is the longest chapter so far, so I really hope that it was worth the wait. Thanks again for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

* * *

***~Chapter IV~***

_~Friends~_

* * *

Thursday, April 11, 1912 - 6:24 P.M.

As soon as Sasuke headed out to explore the swimming pool, Itachi went looking for the blonde woman. He retraced his steps several times before finally finding the door through which he and Sasuke had passed earlier in the day. He couldn't get her out of his head; most particularly the very fleeting glimpse of her white face and wide eyes, those haunted turquoise eyes which pierced straight down to his heart, to his soul. She seemed frightened - no, more than frightened, _terrified_ - of someone, and with every defensive instinct he possessed he wanted desperately to find out the _who_, and the _why_ so he could protect her. The realization, unexpected yet unquestioned, flowed through him from some deep instinctual level.

Once in second class, he paused. Sasuke had done all the research about _Titanic_. Apart from his visit earlier, Itachi knew nothing about the lower portions of the ship. In all honesty he knew only the basics about first class, usually getting lost up there, too. For a moment he entertained the thought of returning to first class, tracking down Sasuke, and bringing him back to aid in his search, but just as quickly dismissed it. His mystery lady hadn't seemed to notice his brother earlier; finding herself confronted by two men who were unknown to her, rather than one, might frighten her more. No, first he'd try to find her by himself and ask Sasuke for help only as a last resort.

Closing his eyes, he thought back to earlier in the afternoon when he and his brother wound up in second class by accident. He relaxed, breathing deeply but evenly through his nose, visualizing, trying to rebuild the route they'd taken. He remembered going past staterooms, like those on either side of him now. But on which of the second class decks had they emerged?

Uncertainty uncomfortably wiggled deep in his stomach. Opening his eyes once more he surveyed the rows of unhelpfully closed white doors, set somewhat closer together than those in first class. Besides the rudeness inherent in just randomly knocking on doors, he doubted people would appreciate being disturbed by someone from first class asking questions about someone of the opposite gender. Heat flushed his cheeks as it occurred to him how his search might be misconstrued - _embarrassingly_ misconstrued - by others.

Itachi began to walk slowly along the seemingly endless, surprisingly empty corridors. He scanned the brass numerals on the doors he passed, hoping for some tickle of familiarity. With every step the rational, businessman side of him continued to point out how _ir_rational his behavior was. How it was much more likely the young woman had been trying to reach her stateroom before publicly succumbing to illness, than to be running for her life.

As Itachi kept walking and searching, he harbored hope that he'd soon find his way past the staterooms and into more public areas. As close as it was to dinnertime (or were the mealtimes even the same for all the classes?), surely she would have left her cabin by now for one of the public rooms, passing her time reading or drawing or conversing while waiting to enter the dining area. All he had to do was to keep searching, and he would find her. He just knew it.

Tucking his hands into his pockets, Itachi tried to look casual - like he belonged in second class despite his cursedly expensive clothes - as he wandered along from deck to deck. The more he walked (and became even _more_ lost, having to turn back once from the uppermost third class deck), the more his surroundings began finally to change. The low hum of mingled male and female conversation reached his ears, a few people now wandering past, paying him no mind beyond a passing glance. His pulse quickened as he followed the sounds.

To his chagrin, though, Itachi abruptly found himself on the well-populated second class promenade. _Maybe this is a good thing,_ he told himself as he joined the leisurely flow of passengers. Keeping his remembered image of her in the front of his mind, he surreptitiously studied each woman he encountered. Most of the ladies wore hats; not quite as sweepingly broadbrimmed as those worn in first class, yet still sufficiently wide to induce considerable frustration as he tried to ascertain hair color or features. A few even wielded fans in imitation of their social superiors. He resisted an urge to growl. How to find her if she kept her face hidden behind a fan or under a hat?

_Or,_ the suspicious part of his mind whispered, _she's taking advantage of the fact deliberately since she has to come out to eat, even if she doesn't want to be social._

He made his way all the way to the end of the promenade, up to the boat deck, and back down again to second class territory on the other side. His search proved just as fruitless there as on the opposite promenade. _Perhaps I should just give up and go back where I belong. It'll be easier to do from the boat deck. At least I can find _that. Just as he began to turn, his determination suddenly flared up, so strongly and hotly it overwhelmed the impulse. So he continued his search even though the likelihood of failure appeared to await him at the end.

As he came up on a door leading inward, his sharp ears caught a faint clink and chime, a sound he immediately associated with mealtime. His steps unconsciously quickened, anticipation building somewhere below his diaphragm; only to check up sharply just inside the doorway of the second class dining saloon, where immaculately uniformed stewards were engaged in setting a staggering array of tables in preparation for the evening meal. One of them, a carrot-topped man who looked not much older than himself, glanced his way in evident surprise. Feeling flustered and thrown off his emotional balance Itachi hurriedly backed up before the steward could speak and spun to retrace his steps.

"Hey, watch where you're going!"

The harsh exclamation, uttered in a nasal tenor, followed hard on a jolt to Itachi's shoulder and jarred him from his acrimonious inner dialogue. "I beg your pardon," he murmured, not fully focused at first on the man scowling at him. "I was not paying sufficient attention to where I was going. I shall be more careful in the future."

"You got that right, mister." The belligerent rejoinder earned Itachi's complete attention. For a moment, the look on the other man's face - particularly in his strange cranberry-hued eyes - made Itachi think he planned to attack. But he seemed to think better of it at the last minute. A slow, almost malicious grin lazily curled his lips. "Aw, it's not that big of a deal," he said, thrusting out his hand for a shake. "The name's Hidan. You look like you might be able to help me."

Reluctantly extending his hand, Itachi studied the other man while trying to keep his expression coolly disinterested. He saw slicked back white hair; cruel eyes and a smile to match; a dark suit neither shabby nor stylish; plus a slight lump beneath indicating the likely presence of a gun. Minus that final detail, he might have been just a common bully; but with it came an impression of dangerous volatility. Hidan's hand closed on his own and gripped hard, his skin clammy, cold, as if not quite human - not quite _alive_. Itachi suppressed a shiver as a feeling of complete antipathy swept through him. "How might I be of service to you?" He allowed a faint note of almost haughty surprise to color his voice. While having no desire whatsoever to be of use to the other man, he had to admit to a certain curiosity about what kind of help a man who looked so untrustworthy wanted.

Hidan shrugged his shoulders with obviously forced casualness as he finally released Itachi's hand. "I'm here on business for my employer," he explained. "He's missing something. Actually, more of a some_one_." Once again his hand lifted, indicating a height just shy of reaching his chin. "A woman, 'bout this tall. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Pretty, though not really a classy sort. I'm sure you know what I mean." One corner of his thin-lipped mouth lifted in something between a sneer and a leer as his gaze flicked offensively over Itachi. "Name's Temari Sabaku." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small black and white likeness and held it out.

Only years of practice in keeping his expression neutral prevented Itachi from betraying the shock he felt. Not only did the description perfectly match the woman he himself sought - the likeness being held out to him was, without a doubt, the same woman whose terrified demeanor was burned into his memory. Some deepseated instinct warned him how the other man watched him intently, studying his every move for the least reaction, so he sternly forbade himself to show his revulsion and pretended to think a moment.

"No," he said at last. "I've not seen anyone who looks like her." He forced himself to look at the picture again, before lifting one shoulder in a casual shrug. "A pity. She is a pretty little thing."

For a few horrible moments, it seemed Hidan had failed to believe Itachi's performance. But, finally, he sighed and shrugged as he returned the likeness to his inner coat pocket. "Oh well. Worth a shot. Where'd you come on board?"

"Cherbourg." Itachi kept his eyes from tracking the likeness. "You?"

"Queenstown," Hidan replied, sounding bored. "I missed boarding in Southampton, so I had to take a train and travel all night to beat the _Titanic_ there so I could get on. Almost didn't make it, either, had to load with the last boat of mail coming across." His expression indicated he thought himself above all that. Itachi, however, briefly entertained the image of the man stuck in a boat with bag after bag of mail bound for America, bobbing in _Titanic_'s wake. If it weren't for the people across the Atlantic waiting for word from their loved ones, Itachi could even have wished the boat had overturned altogether, dumping Hidan in the waters off Queenstown, wet and discouraged.

"Well, good thing that you managed to catch it, then." Itachi nodded once, dismissively. "Now if you'll pardon me, I believe I see my way back up to first class just beyond you. This boat is so large and confusing, it's a miracle that those whose work it is to keep us comfortable on this trip manage to find their own way around, let alone help us do so, too."

Hidan eyed Itachi's suit, which had been tailor-made and fit him to perfection. "I thought it looked like you didn't belong down here."

Itachi shrugged. "Ah, well. It's at least given me a glimpse of how others travel. Good day to you, sir."

The two men went their separate ways. As he recrossed to the boat deck and back into the warren of the ship's interior, Itachi took a deep breath, then let it out again. Hidan gave him a lingering case of the shivers. Even after wiping his hand on his pants leg, he still felt those fingers, cold and faintly slimy, like something left in the water too long, wrapping around his and squeezing. It unsettled and almost frightened him on one level, even as he experienced a sense of grim triumph on another.

He hadn't been imagining things. Thanks to the unpleasant Hidan, his mystery lady now had a name- _Miss Temari Sabaku_ - as well as an ironclad reason for her panicked flight earlier in the day. She must have discovered he was on board and looking for her. His brows drew down into a frown as he realized how that fact made his search infinitely more difficult. Not only would he have to proceed now with extreme caution to keep Hidan from learning of his search; he had to wonder if Temari Sabaku would leave the safety of her stateroom for any reason whatsoever for the remainder of the voyage.

And - the thought made him stop walking suddenly - if that proved to be the case, how would he ever find her so he could help her? For helping her had become of supreme importance to him, especially since his encounter with Hidan.

"Oh, sir, I beg your pardon!"

Suppressing a grimace Itachi turned, mortifed that for the second time in the span of a few minutes he'd been the cause of a collision, and bowed to the pink-cheeked young woman staring up at him with wide brown eyes. "It is I who beg your pardon, madam," he said. "I believe the fault is mine for having halted in front of you. My profoundest apologies. I seem to have strayed from first class." _Oh what tangled webs we weave. . ._ Well, at least it was _partially_ true. He _had_ strayed down to second class, just deliberately rather than accidentally.

"Then we have something in common, sir." Curtsying, the woman smiled, revealing small dimples on either side of her mouth. "I'm afraid I just nearly strayed into first class."

Itachi gave her a warm, disarming smile. "_Titanic_ may be without doubt the most magnificent ship ever built, but she is also the most confusing." He studied the slender brunette before him. Her guileless smile and innocent eyes made her seem as pure as the day she'd been born; the total opposite of the kind of wench who would fall in with the likes of Hidan. His instinct told him to trust her, and since it rarely led him into making wrong decisions, he followed it. "I seem to be making something of a habit of running into people," he told her confidingly. "My brother and I wandered here earlier in the day, and I'm afraid I collided with another young lady then, too. I'm not at all sure I apologized to her adequately." Although it had to be one of the weakest excuses he'd ever come up with in his life, Itachi was feeling increasingly desperate since his encounter with Hidan.

"Oh!" She blinked in surprise. "That's very kind of you, sir. I'm not sure how much help I can be to you - this is only our second day and with a ship this size, I'm not sure if even a week will be long enough to get to know everyone - but I'll help you if I can. What does she look like?"

"Curly blonde hair, fair skin, big turquoise blue eyes. I would say she's probably just a little taller than you." Itachi tried his best _not_ to describe her the same way Hidan had. She deserved more respect than that. _Her beauty should be appreciated, not mocked_, the thought went through him fiercely.

"Ah!" Nodding, the woman dimpled again. "Today must be your lucky day, sir. That sounds just like my roommate, Temari Sabaku. I was just going back to our stateroom to get her since it's nearly time for dinner. If you'd care to accompany me, sir...?" She arched one eyebrow curiously.

Her gentle prompt made him realize he'd failed to introduce himself. "My apologies once more, Miss," he said with a slight bow. "My name is Itachi Uchiha."

"Mr. Uchiha." She curtsied again. "My name is Tenten Hyuuga. Well," she giggled, "soon to be Hyuuga, as soon as we reach America so I can join my betrothed and we can finally be married."

Itachi fell into step with her, shortening his strides to match hers. Luck indeed smiled down on him - what were the odds of him literally running into someone who knew exactly for whom he was looking? Let alone so quickly after starting his search? On a ship the size of _Titanic_, he knew, they had to be nothing short of astronomical. Someone was certainly watching out for him - or, more likely, Temari. "Thank you, Miss Tenten. You are most kind."

She blushed as her eyes slid away from his shyly, making a great pretense of examining each room number as they passed. He wondered if she were embarrassed by his formality, until she said, "I think I've heard of you. Are you by any chance one of the Uchiha family from New York? The ones who patented a safer and less expensive way to produce steel for railroad lines?" She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, then quickly returned to counting off the rooms.

Itachi blinked. Accustomed since his family's advancement to meeting vapid, shallow women who preferred to discuss the weather and the latest fashions rather than anything so "vulgar" as business, he rather liked this Tenten, who spoke so frankly and knowledgeably. "Yes," he said. "I'm rather surprised by your knowing that, actually."

"My future husband, Neji, works for one of the companies who produce that steel," she replied. "He arrived in America not too long after the production ways changed to the new method, and he's written to tell me he's heard stories that makes him glad they were." Suddenly she halted in front of a door and smiled. "Ah, here we are. If you will excuse me for just a moment, sir...?"

"Of course." Itachi nodded, then settled in to wait as Tenten unlocked the door, opened it, and slipped inside. He caught a brief glimpse of the interior of the room - a sink against the wall with a mirror hung above it; a small couch and writing desk on the wall to the left of it - before the door closed again.

Letting out his breath, Itachi tucked his hands into his pockets and nervously rolled his weight onto the balls of his feet, then back onto his heels. _What was I thinking?_ he wondered. _What if she refuses to see me? What if it isn't even _her_?_ _Perhaps I would have been better off just leaving this whole situation alone._ _But it's too late to back out now. I'm committed..._

After a few eternal minutes, the door opened again. Itachi snapped around. _If only I were wearing a hat! Then at least I'd have something to do with my hands!_ Without daring to look at her face, he made his most formal bow to the woman standing in the doorway. _Please be Temari, please be Temari..._

Straightening, he dared to raise his eyes to her face. Relief exploded within him. Tenten's roommate was indeed Temari. And she looked even more beautiful than he remembered.

***~**Thursday, April 11, 1912 - 6:52 P.M.**~***

"Temari! There's a gentleman outside to see you!"

The tenuous control Temari held over the contents of her stomach threatened to desert her as she jerked up her head. "Wh-what did you say?" _How did Hidan find me so quickly?_

Clearly excited by her news, Tenten grinned broadly at her, her dimples out in full force as she tilted her head toward the door. "A gentleman is here to see you. He's from-" her voice hushed slightly "-_first class_."

Perhaps Hidan had not been the only one to board. Swallowing hard and feeling perilously lightheaded, Temari whispered, "What does this gentleman look like?"

"Well, he's quite a bit taller than either you or me. He has shiny black hair he wears pulled back in a ponytail, and his eyes are just as dark and _so_ kind and gentle. Oh, and he's quite pale. _Very_ much the gentleman." She winked tellingly.

Temari wished she could tell her friend that _gentlemen_ weren't always everything they seemed, and most not even deserving the word; but she couldn't risk doing so. It might betray too much about her past. _Well, the description doesn't _sound_ familiar_, she thought as a little self-control returned to her. _That's a good sign._ "I don't suppose he offered his name?" How Tenten answered would help her decide if she wanted to meet the man - or if she should just slit her wrists _now_.

"Itachi Uchiha," Tenten offered promptly. "Of _the_ Uchiha." At Temari's blank look, she sighed. "Don't you remember, Temari? I told you about Fugaku Uchiha patenting a safer and less expensive way to produce steel for railroads," she said. "And my Neji works for one of the companies who produces the steel."

Though she'd lived in proximity to a lot of high society people for the majority of her life, in one capacity or another, Temari possessed only the haziest knowledge of who belonged to which family that did what. Apart from vague memories of that earlier conversation with Tenten, the name didn't mean anything to her at all. "Does he look a nice sort?" she ventured.

"Oh, definitely." Tenten nodded vigorously, nearly bouncing up and down in her excitement. "He explained that he saw you earlier today and ran into you, literally. He wants to apologize."

Everything abruptly clicked into place in her head. Temari had basically forgotten the man she'd collided with on the way back to her room, but now she'd been reminded of the incident she realized Tenten's description fit what little she'd noticed about the man. "And he said he's here to - apologize?" Suspicion warned her to refuse his request. After all, what rich "gentleman" would take the time to track her down and apologize to the likes of her? She wasn't worth his time or attention. He had to have an ulterior motive of some sort, if only she could figure out what it could be.

"Yes. Come on, Temari." Tenten's voice lowered as she raised her eyebrows slightly. "How many chances in life are you going to have to spend some time with a real first-class gentleman?"

_Not many,_ Temari thought grimly. In fact, this was probably her first and _only_ chance, if indeed he _was_ the gentleman he claimed to be. But Tenten's words had given her an idea. A crazy idea, of the most completely improbable sort.

Her earlier assumption of there being no safety in either third class or second had proved true. But Hidan would _never_ think to search for her in first class. Neither he nor his employer thought of her such a context, and thus the possibility of her ever _being_ in first class would never occur to them. She could not hide from Hidan in second class forever. Every passing minute brought him closer to her. She had to take a risk and hope it paid off.

"All right," Temari said, sighing. "You talked me into it."

Tenten clapped happily. "You can't meet him looking like that," she admonished, crossing the tiny distance separating them in a couple of quick steps. "I don't know what you were doing to lose track of the time so, but it's nearly time for dinner! We need to get you changed!" Without waiting for a response, she pulled Temari off the bed. Throwing open the blonde's trunk, she dug through the dresses carefully packed inside, finally withdrawing one in various shades of blue: a gift from Temari's previous employer and one of the few nicer dresses she owned. "Here, put this on."

Temari obeyed, not bothering to tell Tenten she'd had no intentions of going into the public area and running the certain risk of Hidan seeing her. She'd intended to feign illness, something not at all difficult considering the state of her stomach, and ask her friend to bring some food back for her. But now she'd hold that plan in reserve, and felt surprised to realize she wasn't really that disappointed about doing so.

After helping Temari out of her day dress and into the other (plus tightening Temari's corset, citing the reason, "You have a lovely figure and should show it off to full advantage!"), Tenten began pulling pins out of Temari's hair as she hustled her to the chair by the desk. "Pinch your cheeks," she ordered. "You need some color." While Temari unwillingly complied, Tenten's deft fingers combed through the mass of blonde curls falling down her shoulders, before twisting them up into a simple yet elegant hairstyle. She admired her efforts for a moment, then pulled Temari to her feet, allowing her friend only a brief moment to see the effect of her ministrations in the mirror before pushing her toward the door. "Go on," she urged. "He's waiting for you."

Drawing in a deep breath for courage, Temari swallowed once more to still her quaking stomach. She opened the door.

The hall was empty except for a single gentleman, who whirled from his pacing to face the door as it opened. Before she had a chance to say anything, he swept her a bow so low she thought it highly likely he'd hit his head on the floor: an old-fashioned, courtly bow, deep and from the waist with his right hand before him at the waist, his left behind him at the small of his back. She'd been witness to such a bow only once before. It startled her to see it now. Whatever in the world possessed _him_, a first class passenger, to bow to _her_, a second (who should technically be in third) class passenger? She couldn't figure it out, and her head began to hurt when she tried.

"Mr. - Uchiha?" Her voice, small and timid even to her own ears, made her scowl at herself inwardly, wishing she sounded less meek. Apparently all of her courage and bravado had abandoned ship when Hidan came on board.

At her address, the man's dark head snapped up, his body following only a moment later. For a brief, whimsical moment, Temari thought he looked rather like a toy, a marionette jerked around by an untrained child. His movements, so stiff and almost uncoordinated, made him seem rather more like a schoolboy than the first-class gentleman Tenten had described him.

"Miss Sabaku." He breathed the words, his dark eyes studying her face as if trying to memorize it, to paint it onto the canvas of his mind.

She felt an uncharacteristic blush crawl up her neck and sweep into her face at his scrutiny. Unlike when most men looked (leered) at her, she sensed no sexual overtones, no lust or desire in his gaze. Instead, he stared at her as though he thought her the most beautiful work of art in the world - not something to be possessed, but something to be admired from a distance to preserve it from damage.

She found it strange, but at the same time breathtakingly exciting. Temari honestly had no idea if it were an act or if he was genuine in his admiration, but she knew that suddenly her heart thrummed wildly in her chest and her stomach now felt fluttery for an entirely different reason than previously.

And he'd called her _Miss Sabaku_ instead of just by her unadorned first name. As if she were his equal. Even if she had been at one time of her life, that was no longer true. The words hit her like a knife to her stomach, but at the same time his use of them felt so good. They gave something back to her she'd had ripped from her so long ago, something she thought impossible to regain. Perhaps the desire made her a masochist, but despite the pain those words caused, she wanted to hear them again because of the pleasure they also invoked.

After another long moment of gazing at her, Mr. Uchiha blinked and tore his eyes from her, seeming to sense her discomfort. "I wanted to find you and apologize for running in to you earlier today," he explained, now staring fixedly at a space on the floor halfway between his highly polished shoes and her own slightly scuffed slippers. "I had taken a wrong turn, you see, and really had no business being where I was. But my brother is interested in - fascinated by would be more accurate - mechanical things and the building of them, so he wanted to explore more of the _Titanic_, and I-"

Temari gently cleared her throat, amazed by his amusing and shy rambling on in such a nonsensical manner. She found it surprisingly endearing. "Mr. Uchiha," she said softly, breaking him off mid-sentence. His eyes darted back up to meet hers, a hint of pink appearing along his finely sculpted cheekbones. "I do believe I, sir, should be apologizing to you. As I recall, I was the one paying absolutely no attention to where I was going, and I ran into _you_."

Mr. Uchiha blinked again, suddenly looking confused as well as a little lost and rejected. "I - oh. If so - then I suppose I have no business here, after all, and must apologize for needlessly disturbing you, ma'am." Disappointment bordering on despair slashed through Temari's chest, shocking her with its fierceness. He started to turn. Before she could think of anything to say or do to recall him, he jerked to a halt and whirled back, so quickly she jumped. "No," she heard him mutter, as if to himself. Bowing to her again (though not _quite_ as deeply this time, thank goodness), he said, "Miss Sabaku, I would like to request the pleasure of your company this evening. Would you - join me for dinner tonight?"

Tenten poked her excitedly in the back, reminding her of her presence after having lost track of her in the swirl of confusing emotions, as she blurted out, "In the _first class_ dining saloon?"

Itachi's head lifted again. He smiled at Tenten past Temari, something oddly charming about the way his lips curved, and the light the emotion brought to his dark eyes. It made Temari's heart, just settling back into a halfway normal rhythm, start to pound again. He returned his gaze to her face. "Only if it would please you," he said softly.

Although _exactly_ what she had been planning just a few minutes ago, Temari _still_ found herself shocked by the offer. "I - I'll be so out of place," she breathed and promptly wondered why she was arguing with the man, since it was counterproductive to her original intentions. If it saved her life, who cared if she was out of place? _Because you'll be noticed, and if you're noticed, you'll be talked about._ She swallowed hard at the thought. _But perhaps I'll only be discussed among the first class passengers, and Hidan will not hear of it at all._

Mr. Uchiha extended his arm toward her, an offer his eyes assured her she could accept or refuse. But she knew refusing was not an option, and not just for the safety she hoped to gain from it. She couldn't stand the thought of disappointing him, of making that charming smile vanish and the light leave those intoxicating dark eyes of his.

Almost as if on its own, Temari's shaking hand reached out and placed itself atop his. As soon as their skin touched, an electric tingle shot up her arm, sending a buzzing rush through her skull that made her lightheaded again for a totally different reason. For a moment his smiling features blurred before her eyes; then his other hand reached out, grasping hers gently and guiding it to the crook of his elbow. He murmured something to Tenten, who offered an enthusiastic response, before guiding her forward, his stride shortened to match hers perfectly, his steps confident and slightly bouyant.

Temari's own steps felt oddly light, like she floated over the decking. Her mind felt disconnected from her body, detached as she gazed around at the changing scenery as they progressed from the second class portion of the ship to first. She knew beyond doubt her sudden giddiness had absolutely nothing to do with her lavish surroundings and absolutely _everything_ to do with the man who still gazed at her as though she were the most amazing thing, amazing _person_, in the world.

In a place full of glittering jewels, beautiful and rich women, and everything else that made up Itachi's world - and should have held his attention - Temari felt like, for him, she made everyone else pale in comparison. The unexpected, unfamiliar sensation almost frightened her. She tried to ridicule herself for letting her heart guide her rather than her head; for being reckless, and stupid, and - and. . .

She couldn't stop herself. First class surroundings, second or third, suddenly all became utterly unimportant. Being with Itachi himself was all that mattered to her. She didn't care if she were noticed, or talked about for the rest of the trip; stared at, criticized, looked down upon, or turned into some sort of entertainment for the first class people around her. Itachi admired her for _her_, not for what she could do for him or be to him. He didn't care about her lower social status. Had he even noticed that her clothes - although some of the best she owned, since she had changed for dinner - were worn and slightly threadbare? She knew instinctively that, even if she wore the Crown Jewels and the most expensive gown in the world, he wouldn't look at her any differently.

Somehow Itachi Uchiha saw Temari Sabaku as herself, a person of worth in her own right. Not until much later did she remember she should be very, _very_ terrified by that, indeed.

***~To Be Continued~***

_**Author's Ending Notes:**_ Again, a thousand apologies for the lateness of this update. I've learned my lesson, though - no more writing when I'm more than half-asleep, no matter _how_ well the ideas are flowing through my head! This is the longest chapter yet, so I really hope it was worth the wait. And I plan to have the next chapter up much, much sooner and not make you wait so long! Thanks again for reading, and I really hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	5. Distance

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairings, etc.

**Special Thanks:** goes out to _PrettyInPink_, _Darkrai_, and _rao hyuga 18_ for all your encouraging reviews! Also thanks to everyone who put this on your alert and fave lists, you all are so amazing and supportive, and I appreciate you all!

**Author's Note:** I really enjoyed writing this chapter because there is so much Itachi/Temari interaction, plus I got to work in a lot of detail about the _Titanic_. Again, I tried to keep from going too technical on you guys and boring you half to death. I hope succeded! Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy this update!

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***~Chapter V~***

_~Distance~_

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Thursday, April 11, 1912 - 7:45 P.M.

Itachi knew the moment he saw his father's face things weren't going to go nearly as smoothly as he'd been hoping. But he swallowed back his misgivings, looked down at Temari and smiled at her reassuringly. "Father, Mother, Sasuke, this is Miss Temari Sabaku."

Temari, still clinging to his arm as if he was the only thing holding her in place, peered at his family through her lashes. Itachi hoped his family would see the same things in her he had, but the look on Fugaku's face did not bode well.

For a moment, Itachi stood nervously while his family just stared at Temari. He was beginning to get concerned, but then Mikoto got to her feet and came toward them with a wide smile, and he was able to let out his breath. At least _one_ of his parents seemed to approve of Temari; then again, his mother would probably be happy if Itachi brought home a mermaid. She was just so desperate for her son to find someone and be happy that she didn't seem to care what the girl looked like or did.

"It's so lovely to meet you, Temari," Mikoto said, instantly drawing Temari into a hug. Behind her, the expression on Fugaku's face got darker and increasingly disapproving. "I've so been hoping Itachi would find someone-"

He could practically feel the heat rising in Temari's face to match the color flooding his own. He opened his mouth to interrupt his mother, something he would never do ordinarily, but then Sasuke appeared next to her. He slid his arm around his mother's shoulders and kissed her on her cheek, effectively cutting her off mid-thought, and smiled at Temari. "Also a pleasure," he said, bowing slightly. His dark eyes cut to Itachi, and the elder brother caught the gleam of amusement in those eyes - even if he would get questioned to death later, at least he had an ally in his younger brother now. "My brother has spoken of nothing other than you since our accidental run-in this morning." He smiled his roguish, winning smile, which thankfully seemed to put Temari more at ease.

"It's nice to make your acquaintance," Temari replied, bobbing a slight curtsy. Her anxious turquoise eyes darted toward the last member of their party, then quickly away. It made Itachi furious, the way his father made no attempt to hide his animosity. Itachi's hand hidden by a fold of his coat clenched into a fist.

"It's almost time for the evening meal," Mikoto remarked, still seeming oblivious to her husband's silent fury. "Shall we head in that direction?"

Before any of them could make a move, Fugaku spoke. "Itachi. I need to speak with you." The implied _now_ hung heavily in the air between the two men, ratcheting up the tension in the air another few notches.

Sasuke cleared his throat and grinned again, the smile never reaching his eyes. "Ladies?" He offered one arm to his mother, the other to Temari, as suave as any other gentleman in the room. Mikoto laughed nervously and took her younger son's arm. Itachi squeezed Temari's hand reassuringly before letting her go. "It's all right," he said softly. "You can trust Sasuke. I'll be along in only a moment, I promise."

Temari gave a jerky nod, then drew in a deep breath and turned away. Only a brief second passed, but he saw her undergo a sort of transformation - an easy smile curled her lips, her shoulders straightened, and her head lifted. Her suddenly regal bearing made Itachi realize this was no ordinary woman - she was high-born, though she had obviously fallen on hard times. It made him all the more fascinated by her.

As soon as Sasuke and the ladies had exited the lounge, Itachi turned his cool gaze on his father. "Yes, Father?"

Fugaku took two steps forward so he was right in his son's face. Fortunately there were few left in the room, and most of them were leaving, so not much attention was paid to the man as he hissed, "What are you thinking, Itachi? _Are _you even thinking? She's not our kind! Are you trying to destroy everything I've worked so hard to build for our family? For _you_?"

"Not at all," Itachi replied, trying to remain calm. "I do not know if you noticed or not, but as Temari left, her bearing was not that of a low-class woman. She is high-born, just fallen on hard times. Or have you so soon forgotten our own humble roots?" He nearly bit his tongue after those last words escaped his lips, but he refused to recall them. His father was doing something he had once detested so strongly, and it rubbed his elder son the wrong way.

Dark eyes narrowing in obvious anger, Fugaku grabbed Itachi's arm and shook him slightly. "I refuse to let you speak to me in that way," he said. "And I refuse to allow you to ruin us. She may stay with us for this evening, but _only_ because you have already brought her up here and caused a scene, so it would be suspicious if she suddenly vanished. But once you escort her back down to third class later, I want her to stay _there_, where she belongs, and you to stay _here_, where you belong. Is that clear?"

"It would be, Father. But Temari is not from third class. She is from second." A sense of triumph shot through Itachi's chest at the look of shock on Fugaku's face. It gave him the opening he needed to twist deftly away from his father's grip and turn toward the door. "Now, shall we head for the dining saloon before we are late for the meal?"

Despite the icy gaze on his back, Itachi felt satisfied as he made his way through the labyrinth of halls toward the dining saloon, fortunately not too far away from the lounge. In practically no time he caught up with his brother, mother, and Temari. He found them engaged in conversation with a man Itachi recognized as Thomas Andrews, the esteemed personage who had designed the _Titanic_.

"I would be happy to give you a tour tomorrow," Mr. Andrews was saying in his soft brogue as Itachi approached.

Sasuke's expression visibly brightened. "I would enjoy that very much," he said politely. "And I was also wondering if I could ask you a few questions about its design and how it's run, too?" He looked like a hopeful little boy. Itachi had to bite the inside of his mouth to keep from laughing at him as he picked up Temari's hand and once again slid it into the crook of his elbow.

"Of course," Mr. Andrews said, nodding to Sasuke. Then he turned to Itachi and smiled in his usual friendly manner. "Mr. Uchiha."

"Mr. Andrews," Itachi returned. "This is indeed a beautiful ship you have built us." The words were not said with idle flattery, but true in every sense. The _Titanic_ was like nothing the world had ever seen, and he knew he had not even seen half of it.

At Itachi's praise, the Irishman's smile turned shy, though his eyes glowed happily. "I was just saying to your mother and brother that I would be glad to escort them on a private tour of _Titanic_ tomorrow," he said. "I certainly hope that you and your lady will join us?" His eyes drifted to Temari, smile still firmly in place.

Itachi very carefully ignored his father's glare drilling into his back as he smiled and looked to Temari. "Miss Sabaku?" he asked softly.

She swallowed hard, cheeks flushed a beautiful shade of rose, then smiled and nodded. "I'd like that," she half-whispered. "Thank you."

"Then it's settled!" Mr. Andrews smiled and nodded decisively. "I shall meet you here after breakfast, then?"

After a murmur of agreement went through the group, Mr. Andrews excused himself and moved away. Itachi watched Temari out of the corner of his eye as they made their way further into the saloon. "I'm glad you agreed to come," he said. "I'll enjoy spending more time with you."

Temari's blush intensified a little. "I must admit, I am curious about the _Titanic_," she said. "What bit of it I've seen has amazed me. I know there's so much more. And I'm grateful to him for inviting me, and you for including me."

They approached their table. Itachi cautiously looked around to see who was joining them tonight. He indentified John Jacob Astor and his wife Madeleine, neither of whom would look down on Temari; Margaret Brown, the other "new money" aboard, who would help to make Temari comfortable; Thomas Andrews; and, rounding out the group, J. Bruce Ismay, the head of the White Star line: ostensibly on the _Titanic_ as a regular passenger, though Itachi had his own private thoughts on the matter. Ismay was the only one who concerned Itachi, but since he sat at the other end of the table, it seemed unlikely he would even be in a position to say anything to Temari. He relaxed after assisting Temari into her seat between himself and Mrs. Brown.

"And who's this lovely little lady?" Mrs. Brown asked, smiling widely at Temari and then Itachi.

"Itachi invited her to dinner without asking or thinking about what disruptions he would be making," Fugaku remarked snidely as he assisted Mikoto into her seat.

"The more the merrier!" Molly objected cheerfully, without removing her gaze from Temari.

"Temari Sabaku," Temari said softly, her expression caught somewhere between panic and politeness.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Margaret Brown, but you can call me Molly."

With relief Itachi saw he had calculated correctly. Molly treated Temari with the same open, unaffected manner she used with anyone else at the table. "It's nice to see you again," he remarked to Molly as he settled into his own chair. "We ran into each other in Egypt," he told Temari. "We were both vacationing there at the same time."

"So many interesting things! I think I'll go back sometime in the future." Molly held up her glass as a waiter came by with a bottle of chilled wine.

"I liked Italy," Mikoto mentioned. "It was so romantic." She sent a meaningful look in Fugaku's direction that everyone else tastefully pretended not to see.

Across the table, Sasuke leaned over to ask Mr. Andrews a question. Instantly the two men became involved in a conversation full of steel beams, iron plating, rivets, and steam engines. Itachi smiled into his wine glass, glad to see his brother having such a good time. Bored through most of their vacation, at last he was involved in something he so obviously enjoyed.

As the various people at the table settled into their own conversations after the first course was served, Molly turned back to Temari and Itachi. "So, how did you two meet?"

Temari once again turned pink. Itachi cleared his throat as he set down his fork. "Here on _Titanic_," he said. "I accidentally ran into her."

Touching her napkin to her lips, Temari laughed softly, a nice sound deep yet still distinctly feminine, sending good chills down Itachi's spine. "What Mr. Uchiha is too kind to say, I was in a hurry and I nearly knocked him over in my rush."

Molly chuckled. "Honesty is the best policy," she remarked. "This one's a keeper, Itachi."

Looking at Temari out of the corner of his eyes, he smiled though he did not respond aloud. _I know._ Once again he could feel Fugaku's icy glare, but he decided he didn't care. Even though he'd practically just met her, _something_ deep inside him told him she was the one. He didn't know how it would work, but he was confident it would. Now he had met her he wasn't going to let her go.

She must have caught him looking at her, because Temari's cheeks went pink again and she turned her face away. From beneath the edge of the tablecloth, he saw the way she clutched her napkin in her fist, so tightly she'd even caught some of the fabric of her skirt, too. Though her expression was relaxed and her mouth smiling, the tension in every line of her body from her rigid shoulders to her stiff legs indicated her discomfort.

Despite that, though, Itachi knew he was right in thinking Temari no ordinary woman. The way she held herself, how she spoke, the tilt of her chin and the fact she knew the use of every single piece of silverware by her plate without asking - they all painted the picture of a gently bred woman. Since she was traveling in second class, she must have fallen on hard times. But he had no doubts at all: At one point in her life, she had belonged to high society.

As the meal progressed, Temari finally began to relax. Itachi and Molly kept up a constant stream of conversation, including Temari as often as they could in hopes of further putting her at ease. The first time the blonde genuinely laughed at something Mrs. Brown had said, Itachi felt a sense of accomplishment. As she emerged even slightly from her shell, he felt hopeful.

After dessert, most of the men - including Fugaku - excused themselves to head to the first-class gentlemen's smoking room. Itachi's father paused by his son's chair long enough to hiss under his breath, "Take her back. _Now_!" Then he stood up with a smile and engaged in conversation with John Jacob Astor as the group of men headed for the beautiful doors leading out of the dining saloon.

Itachi stubbornly stayed where he was, listening as Mikoto joined in the conversation with Molly and Temari. Even though the rest of the men, including Mr. Andrews, had left, Sasuke also remained at the table. He lifted his eyebrows slightly at Itachi, an inquisitive motion, and the elder brother tilted his head to the left in response. Immediately Sasuke's brows lowered disapprovingly, just for a moment. He glanced briefly at Temari. His expression cleared just before he nodded, indicating his support of Itachi's endeavors to get closer to Temari, then. The younger Uchiha brother's help would definitely be invaluable.

The hour drew closer to ten o'clock. As Molly and Mikoto discussed the differences and similarities between Egyptian and Italian art styles, Temari leaned over to Itachi and whispered, "I need to get back down to where I belong." She avoided his gaze firmly as she spoke.

"I very seriously doubt you'll turn into a pumpkin if you stay up here," Itachi replied teasingly.

Temari blinked, looking startled at his joke. At first Itachi thought he'd gone too far, but to his relief she eventually smiled, a soft laugh escaping her. "I should certainly hope not. I look terrible in orange."

_She made a joke in return!_ Itachi's heart felt lighter than it had in a long time. If she felt comfortable enough to tease him back, it meant she felt more at ease in his presence. Perhaps Temari didn't trust him completely, but he would have expected no less considering their short acquaintance. But, since he planned to remedy that situation as quickly as possible, he felt heartened by the progress he'd already made.

The first lull in conversation, Temari softly excused herself, claiming tiredness. Itachi followed her example, saying he would escort her back to her room. Mikoto and Molly, now the only two women left at the table, said goodnight to Temari, then began to converse again.

As Itachi and Temari left the dining saloon, Sasuke caught up with them. "I can't believe you were planning to abandon me to the women, Itachi," he complained.

"Are you going to go over to the smoking room?" Itachi paused at the bottom of the Grand Staircase, located on the opposite end of the reception room from the dining saloon.

"Probably not. Mr. Andrews said he'd loan me some of his original drawing plans for the _Titanic_, so I think I'm going to go back to our room and wait for a steward to bring them over." Sasuke offered a slight wave, then tucked his hands into his pockets and ascended the staircase.

"Your brother really likes mechanical things, doesn't he?" Temari asked softly as the two of them headed around the Grand Staircase, toward the lifts leading closer to second class.

"Ever since he was a child," Itachi agreed as they stepped into one of the grate-covered moving boxes. He told the steward manning the lift where they wanted to go, then returned to his conversation with Temari. "During his childhood, and even into his teens, Sasuke would pick up ordinary things around the house and take them apart to see how they worked. It drove our mother crazy! She was very glad when he finally started putting them back together, too."

Their conversation paused as they exited the lift, then resumed as they made their way down the hall. As they strolled down the area of the ship dubbed "Scotland Road," Itachi glanced down at Temari and asked, "So, do you have any siblings?"

A soft smile curled her shapely pink lips. "Two," she admitted. "Both younger brothers. Kankuro is still in England, but Gaara is going to meet me in America. He's already been there for about two years."

"Long time to live without your relatives," Itachi remarked. "I remember when I left home and went to college. I know that's different, but still..."

Temari shrugged. "In some ways, Gaara's the toughest of all of us. He's got determination, and that's helped. I must admit that it will be nice to know someone when I get to America."

"Well, now you know several people," Itachi replied, smiling. "At least, I'd like to _think_ we'll keep in touch once we leave _Titanic_."

Once again, that infuriating yet endearingly enigmatic smile curled Temari's lips. "Perhaps," she said vaguely.

The closer they got to second class, the more Itachi began to drag his feet. It was selfish of him, monopolizing this woman's time and energy, but he just didn't want the night to end. Granted, he'd see her again tomorrow for Mr. Andrews's tour of the ship, but the thought of having to be away from her for even a few hours made him feel suddenly quite lonely.

"I don't suppose I could talk you into a quick walk out on the promenade?" Itachi asked, despite his better judgement.

One finely shaped blonde eyebrow arched at him. "In this weather?"

Shrugging uncomfortably, Itachi cleared his throat and avoided her gaze, finding the carpeted floor beneath his feet suddenly very interesting. "It's cold, but clear," he said. "I'll loan you my coat." _I'm being absolutely ridiculous. She's going to think I'm an imbecile!_

For a long moment, Temari studied him out of the corner of her eye. She finally smiled and nodded. "I don't suppose it will hurt," she said. "I think my wrap will be more than enough, but thank you for your kind offer."

Itachi smiled and guided them through the doorway they'd been approaching, laughing at Temari's look of consternation. "Did you plan this?" she asked.

"No," he said honestly. "But I recognized the door as the one Sasuke and I came through earlier." They ascended and then descended a few staircases, went through another door, and then found themselves in the clear, cold night air. The star-spangled sky reflected in the water below made the horizon unidentifiable.

"It's so beautiful." Temari let go of Itachi's arm and went directly to the rail, gripping it with her gloved hands as she leaned slightly over.

Feeling his stomach do a slow, slightly queasy roll, Itachi hurried forward and hovered behind Temari just in case she leaned over too far. "Be careful," he said.

Loose curls of Temari's gold hair tumbled around her face in the breeze caused by _Titanic's_ swift movement as she glanced over her shoulder at him. "I will be," she said. For a moment a serious look flitted through her eyes, and she looked like she was considering saying something more. But then she smiled again, shook her head, and turned back to the water.

"The view from the first class promenade doesn't look that different from second," Temari said. "Just a little higher, I suppose."

Itachi swallowed back his dinner, which was threatening to revolt, and kept his eyes tilted upwards. As long as he kept looking at the sky, he couldn't see the water. He hoped. "No matter where you look, there's still too much water."

Abandoning the view that had fascinated her only a moment before, Temari spun to look up at Itachi with amazed eyes. "You're afraid of the water?"

Clearing his throat uncomfortably, Itachi squinted up at the stars and shrugged. "I don't like it," he said, though he knew there was no distinction (for him, anyway) between not liking water and being afraid of it. He had a feeling Temari realized that, too. "If I had my way, we'd be able to fly back to America, and never even _touch_ the water. I think it will be possible, someday."

"Flying, hmm?" Looping her arm through his again, Temari carefuly guided him around so they were strolling back down the deck. Itachi swallowed hard, trying to ignore the heat racing through his body, originating from the point where Temari's delicate hand curled around his arm. "I know flying machines exist, but do you _really_ think one can be built that will traverse an entire ocean?"

"Mark my words," Itachi said, trying to sound wise, "someday, perhaps within a few years, flying machines will be making their way back and forth between America and England." He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "Who knows? Maybe your other brother Kankuro will come to America on one."

Temari's formerly complacent look changed suddenly. Itachi couldn't identify it, but before he could even try, she pulled away and turned around, returning to her place leaning against the railing. "I hope it won't take that long," she said, her voice so soft it was almost lost in the sound of the wind and the waves crashing against the side of the boat far below.

Once again, Itachi crept his way up behind her, keeping his eyes on the mass of curls secured at the back of her head to keep himself from looking down (down, down, _down_) at that awful water. Or at other, even _more_ foribidden, things. "What's wrong?" he asked softly.

He saw her hands tighten against the rail as her back and shoulders stiffened. "Nothing." The denial came too quickly.

Sighing, Itachi stuffed his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching out to her. That, he knew, would be a _very_ bad idea, for several different reasons. "I know there's someone else on board looking for you. Hidan." The probe might have been gentler, but he needed to know the situation in order to better protect her.

Temari's head jerked around. She glared at him over her shoulder, her expression sharp, remote, but also with obvious fear in her eyes. He recognized the expression as the same he'd seen there earlier in the day. "How do you know that name?"

Forcing himself to step around her, Itachi leaned against the rail and clutched it with both hands. Once again he turned his gaze upwards, admiring the stars as they sparkled against the velvety black backdrop of the sky. "I ran into the man as I searched for you," he admitted. "He told me your name and showed me a likeness. I recognized you immediately."

She took two steps back, her full attention now on him. "And did you tell him that you knew me?" Her voice, as sharp as her features, dripped with anger and bravado probably meant to hide her fear.

Itach quickly turned back from the railing to face her. Without taking even a step closer to her, he met her gaze squarely as he slowly shook his head. "No," he said softly. "I didn't."

Obviously, that surprised her. She blinked. "Why not?"

"For several reasons. Because I've seen his kind before. Because he gave me the shivers which lingered long after I left his presence; in fact, I can still feel those slimy fingers wrapping around mine in a handshake I didn't want to submit to. And because I saw the shape of what I'm sure is a gun under his jacket."

Temari let out her breath in a long sigh, her shoulders relaxing slightly with the release. "It's a silver gun, with a red-painted engraving on either side of the barrel reading, _For the Betterment of Mankind_."

Itachi blinked in surprise of his own. "You've seen it?"

She offered him a wry smile, more a twist of her lips, her eyes as hard as stones. "I've had it pointed at me before."

Indescribable anger and hatred suddenly flashed through Itachi. "No possible reason _ever_ justifies a man pointing a weapon at a lady," he grated.

Again, Temari looked surprised at the vehemence of his outburst. "He apparently thought so. Besides, it wasn't entirely his decision, but by order of his employer, like almost everything else he does." She sighed, rubbing her hands up and down her arms as if suddenly cold. "He possesses a horridly foul mouth, an insatiable lust for blood, and thinks every woman in sight should instantly succumb to his 'charm.' He terrifies me, and so does his employer."

"You're running from them." Itachi said it as a statement rather than a question as pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place, painting an unpleasant picture.

"Yes," Temari responsed just as frankly. "For many reasons."

This time Itachi did move toward her, though he stopped outside her personal space. "Do you want to tell me why?"

Just like that, all the progress he'd made in such a remarkably short time came undone. Her expression and eyes went cool and wary right before she turned away. "It's been a very pleasant evening, but I'd like to return to my room now."

Itachi bit the inside of his lip to keep from laughing at her suddenly imperious tone. If _that_ didn't prove her to be of gentle birth... "All right." Grasping her hand again, he ignored her stiffness as he slid it into the crook of his arm and turned them back toward the entrance into the warmth of the ship. "Will you join my family and me for breakfast before the tour in the morning?"

"Tour? Oh." Temari nodded once, thoughtfully. "I suppose it would be more expedient that way. So you won't have to come all the way down to second class, then back up to first to meet Mr. Andrews."

"It's not so far," Itachi said mildly. "Besides, I shall come get you before breakfast and escort you up to first class myself." _I can't entrust your safety to anyone else._

He sensed her bristle slightly. "By morning I might not wish to go on this tour, let alone to breakfast in a place I don't belong."

Itachi waited until they passed through the door into the ship's interior and returned by way the staircases leading them to Scotland Road again before replying. "Hidan is confined to second and third class," he said. "Plus the more time you spend in first class, the less you'll have to spend in your cabin, by yourself."

"And what makes you think I don't want to be alone?" She declined his proffered arm, looking at him steadily as they walked.

"I don't think anyone _really_ wants to be alone." Itachi let his lips tilt upwards in a smile. "And, besides, I really enjoy your company. I like to think you enjoy mine, too."

Temari didn't respond, but smiled ever-so-slightly. When they finally reached the door to her stateroom, she nodded affirmatively when Itachi told her he'd come for her in the morning, then accepted his kiss on the back of her hand before she went inside.

Itachi kept his thoughts reined firmly in to prevent getting lost again between Temari's room and his. As soon as the door to his and Sasuke's stateroom closed behind him, he saw his younger brother sitting crosslegged on his bed, a snowstorm of papers unfurled across his legs and the mattress.

"I'm surprised you're not asleep." Itachi yanked at the knot on his tie, scowling when it refused to come undone.

"Hn," Sasuke said distractedly. "I want to look these over before the tour in the morning. I've got so many questions I want to ask him."

Smothering his smile at his brother's enthusiasm, Itachi finally got his tie to cooperate. Pulling it off, he let out a breath of relief and soon divested himself of jacket, vest, shoes, and suspenders as well. Unbuttoning his pristine white shirt, he moved to the wardrobe and opened the doors so he could hang up his clothes. "I'm concerned."

As he'd expected, that drew Sasuke's attention. "About what?"

"More _whom_," Itachi said, hanging up his jacket. Though his father had offered to help him find a valet among their sizeable staff, he'd always preferred taking care of his own clothes. "Miss Sabaku."

"Ah." Sasuke nodded wisely. "There's something not quite right with her."

"She's being chased across the Atlantic by a man with a gun. I should think that would be enough to put just about anyone out of sorts." Itachi finished taking off and hanging up his eveningwear. Putting on his pajamas he flipped his dark ponytail out from beneath the collar before tugging out the band holding it back.

Pushing away all the papers, Sasuke got to his feet, a concerned expression on his face. "Is she running from the law?"

"If Hidan works for the law, I'm a stable boy," Itachi said irritably. "She won't talk to me about it."

Turning back to his bed, undoubtedly to hide a smile of his own (Sasuke always liked seeing his brother out of sorts, since it didn't happen too often), the younger Uchiha began gathering up the papers strewn across his mattress. Tying pieces of twine around them after rolling them up, he said, "Think she might not trust you?"

"Unfortunately, she doesn't as much as I would like." Tucking his hands behind his head, Itachi stared up at the ceiling as he listened to Sasuke rustling papers and mumbling to himself. "If what I suspect is anything close to the truth, it's really no wonder. But _still_ - how can I protect her if she doesn't choose to confide in me?"

Sasuke dropped all the papers onto the desk in the corner and muttered something about a steward and Mr. Andrews. As he began stripping off the parts of his own eveningwear he'd not already discarded around the space, he said, "At least you'll be able to be with her for a while tomorrow. She's still coming on the tour of the ship, right?"

Itachi closed his eyes and sighed tiredly. "As of when I left her at her room a few minutes ago, yes. I even managed to talk her into having breakfast with us."

Laughing, Sasuke hung his slightly crooked jacket and pants in his own wardrobe, then flopped down onto his still-made, albeit now messy, bed. "Then there's nothing to worry about, right?" Reaching over, he adjusted the temperature on the space heater between their beds; bounced up again long enough to hit the switch for the electric lights before lying down again, this time underneath his blankets. "Good night, Itachi."

"Good night, Sasuke." Despite the fact his brother quickly fell asleep, Itachi lay awake long into the night, his mind occupied with suspicions, concerns, and a pair of beautiful, albeit frightened, turquoise eyes.

***~To Be Continued~***

_**Author's Ending Notes:**_ Another thing I'm enjoying about this story, like my other ongoing project _Labyrinth_, is writing Itachi and Sasuke's interaction. I love working with their characters in an enviornment where the Uchiha massacre never happened. Anyway, back on track: I really hope you all enjoyed this chapter, thank you so much for reading, and I'll see you in the next update!


	6. Masquerade

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairings, etc.

**Special Thanks:** goes out to _alanasometimes_, _PrettyinPink_, _Darkrai_, and _rao hyuga 18_ for all your wonderful and supportive reviews, and to everyone who has added this story to their alert and favorite lists!

**Author's Notes:** I'm so excited! More Itachi/Temari interaction in this chapter, plus a tour of the ship, and the introduction of some more familiar faces. And each chapter brings us ever-closer to the story of Temari's past, which I'm also excited about revealing! Thanks again to everyone who's read and reviewed, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

* * *

***~Chapter VI~***

_~Masquerade~_

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Friday, April 12, 1912 - 9:30 A.M.

After a mostly sleepless night - partly thanks to Tenten's excitement, and partly thanks to her own tightly-strung nerves - Temari was not at all sure she could stomach a first-class breakfast, let alone make her way through a tour of a ship as massive as _Titanic_.

But when Itachi showed up with his charming smile at eight promptly, Temari knew she could not disappoint him. So, with a sweet smile, she accepted his arm and went with him, enduring breakfast with a dignity she knew would have made her former employer proud.

Itachi, his brother, his mother, and most of the other occupants of the table, only two familiar from the night before, were nothing but polite to her. However, she could feel Fugaku Uchiha's icy glare on her all through the meal, though she did her best to ignore it. How could someone as sweet and caring as Itachi have a father such as Fugaku? The thought reminded her of another question she'd asked herself not long before, but she quickly shook all those thoughts away. She meant to enjoy today, make the most of it, and then take the rest of voyage one day at a time.

After breakfast Fugaku, to her great relief, declined to join the tour and took off for the gentleman's smoking room. Temari privately thought the man spent too much time there, though she was certainly not one to judge. Smiling, she accepted Itachi's arm as they, plus Sasuke and Mrs. Uchiha, made their way out to where Mr. Andrews waited for them. He sat at one of the tables in the reception room outside the dining room, quietly conversing with a man Temari recognized as Mr. Ismay. When he saw them, he excused himself and hurried toward them.

"Excellent! Is everyone ready for the tour?" Mr. Andrews gave them an excited smile as he looked from face to face, bowing to both Temari and Mikoto before he turned away.

As the group made their way up the Grand Staircase (of which Temari was convinced there could never be an equal), Itachi leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Since there are three Mr. Uchiha, I wish to ask if you'll please call me Itachi. To keep ourselves from getting into confusing situations, of course," he hastened to add. "I shall, of course, continue referring to you as Miss Sabaku, as is proper."

Temari bit her lower lip to keep herself from saying _nothing_ about this situation was proper. She was a second class woman gallivanting about the ship with a first class man, returning to her own areas only long enough to sleep. It was nothing less than shocking. "If I am to be casual with you, _Itachi_," she said, forcing herself to say his name aloud, "I insist: you must call me Temari in return. It is only right."

He studied her face seriously for a long moment, as if checking to make sure her offer was genuine. Itachi must have decided it was, for he finally smiled and tilted his head toward her happily. "Your wish is my command then, Temari."

She was used to her given name being spoken in several different ways. With concern and caring by her brothers, in a nicely worded order by her former employer, and, later, in less acceptable tones by Hidan and _his_ employer. But her name on Itachi's lips made the fine hairs on her arms and the back of her neck prickle in a _completely_ good way. No one had ever spoken her name the way Itachi did before, and she found she yearned to hear it more.

"I'll take you up to the bridge first," Mr. Andrews was saying when Temari forced herself to pay attention again. "Though the true power of _Titanic_ lies far below our feet, the bridge holds the people who keep her functioning smoothly and moving forward reliably."

Temari paid only slight attention to Mr. Andrews's words as she admired her surroundings. The day was cold, but the sky was practically cloudless. Both it and the water were so blue she wished she could find a fabric that shade and make it into a dress. She was sure if she were able to touch one or the other, it would already feel like the finest silk. Her surroundings outside the ship were almost more impressive than the beauty the _Titanic_ itself offered.

"Have you ever seen anything like this?" Even Itachi seemed caught up in Mr. Andrews's enthusiasm, his dark eyes shining as he looked around. Both of them paid special attention to what the Irishman pointed out, all of which was certainly worth another look. Temari had already noticed the wrought-iron and glass dome over the Grand Staircase, the clock mounted on the wall at its head, the elaborate carvings on the wooden accents, and even the small stars in the silverware on the table, indicating their presence on a ship built by the White Star Line. But Mr. Andrews was careful to point out things one would miss on their own examinations, mostly having to do with how the ship was built and run.

The more Mr. Andrews talked, the more she began to realize the White Star Line really _had_ spared no expense to make sure the _Titanic_ was not only luxurious, but safe. Even though Itachi mentioned something about the number, or lack thereof, of lifeboats, Mr. Andrews reassured them all by describing the watertight compartments belowdecks, which would prevent the ship from sinking on the slight chance they did hit something. She remembered the near-miss with the _New York_ back in Southampton, and was glad to know even if the two ships had collided, the damage to the _Titanic_ would have been minimal and would not have endangered any lives.

"Since I _had_ to get on board a ship to get back home," Itachi remarked to Temari as they exited the bridge, "I'm glad it's the _Titanic_. Seems like there's none safer on the water."

"It's reassuring," Temari agreed. She had so many other things occupying her mind, and her worries, but at least the _Titanic_'s safety would not have to be one of them. It made the hair on the back of her neck stand straight up in fear at the thought of Gaara having come across on a far less safe ship two years before. Hopefully Kankuro would be able to book passage on the _Titanic_ or one of her sister ships when he came across later.

As they walked across the deck, past the Marconi room, then down a set of steps to the gymnasium, Sasuke began asking technical questions which made no sense to the other three members of the group. Mikoto dropped back to walk next to her eldest son and Temari, a gentle smile on her lovely features as she looked around her. Itachi offered his other arm to his mother, who accepted it with a demure smile.

"Miss Sabaku," Mikoto said, leaning around her son, "if it's not too impertinent, may I ask why you're going to America?"

Temari forced herself not to tense as she returned the other woman's smile. "My youngest brother is already there," she said. "For now I'm going to visit, but depending on how things go, I might stay there."

If Itachi noticed the difference between what she'd just told his mother and what she'd told him last night, he didn't react. "Your other brother is still in England, correct?"

She nodded. "Yes. But I'm hoping it won't be long before he'll be able to follow me."

"Hopefully he'll be able to come across on the _Titanic_ when he does," Mikoto said. "Or, if not this one, then one of her sisters." She glanced up at her son's face, her expression suddenly slightly puzzled. "What were those names, Itachi?"

"The _Olympic_ is the one already built," Itachi answered dutifully. "And I heard Mr. Ismay mention the next one to be constructed will be called _Gigantic_."

"With three ships, I'm sure he'll have the chance to travel on one of them," Mikoto told Temari reassuringly.

Sasuke mentioned the boilers belowdecks which supplied the steam to keep the ship moving and the electricity running, and she felt Itachi come to attention next to her. As he listened intently, Temari thoughtfully kept quiet so he could hear better. She soon found herself caught up as well, amazed at the sheer size of the engines which kept _Titanic_ steaming her way towards America: each one powered by a boiler at the bottom of the ship, manned twenty-four hours a day by a crew who shoveled over 600 tons of coal into the boilers daily. She'd never thought about those who kept the ship working, but from now on she vowed she would keep them in mind and try to be more appreciative of their efforts.

When it became clear Itachi had stopped paying close attention to the conversation, Temari decided it was safe to speak again. "Do you have any particular plans when we reach America?"

Itachi's expression was full of chagrin when he looked at her. He shot a quick glance at his mother, who had moved up to ask a question about the Elizabethan decór in the lounge. "I am expected to choose a bride," he said simply. His voice lacked any inflection or emotion, and Temari realized he dreaded it.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "Am I to understand there are no young ladies of interest?"

"Not in America," he replied vaguely. Temari wasn't sure, but she thought she felt his hand resting over hers on his arm tighten slightly. "But we likely won't get there until next Wednesday, so I still have some time and freedom. What about you? Any plans after you reunite with your brother?"

Oh, Temari had plans all right, but she didn't particularly feel like sharing them with Itachi or anyone else. "Nothing in particular. I imagine we will spend quite a bit of time catching up, though. I'm sure a lot has happened in these past two years we haven't been able to fit in letters."

Sasuke spoke in a slightly louder voice in front of them, momentarily drawing their attention. "So you're saying there _is_ a chance we'll get to New York Tuesday night instead of Wednesday?"

"It's possible," Mr. Andrews admitted. "The _Titanic_ has not yet reached her full speed potential, as Captain Smith has not yet ordered the last few boilers lit. This is our first full day at sea, so we are waiting to see how she does today before we make a decision one way or the other about lighting the others and pushing her speed. But yes, I do believe if we light the final boilers and push the engines to their fullest extent, we will make it to New York early."

"Not even a full week on board," Itachi marveled as his and Temari's attention returned to each other. "Can you imagine it?"

"It is a marvel," she admitted. "Did you come on board in Southampton or Cherbourg?"

"Cherbourg. You?"

"Southampton. So though I've been on board a few hours longer, it hardly matters." Temari turned her face into the wind and closed her eyes, for a moment allowing her imagination to run away with her. She imagined she was on one of Itachi's imagined flying machines, winging her way across the ocean to America and freedom. Though Hidan's presence on board briefly touched her thoughts, she firmly pushed it away. She would not waste worries or thoughts on him, not when she was in first class and the safety of Itachi's company.

"You look deep in thought," Itachi said. "How much would you charge for one or two?"

Temari laughed, surprised at how easily it came. She hadn't been able to laugh so freely in quite a while. "For you? I suppose I shall offer them freely, in response to your kindness." She pushed a stray curl of hair out of her mouth before continuing. "I was just thinking about your flying machine we discussed last night, wondering what it would be like to make our way across the ocean in the air, instead of on the water."

"A much nicer prospect, isn't it?" They made their way through a beautiful arched entrance into a tiled foyer, taking a moment to admire the wrought-iron gates, before Itachi spoke again. "Though it would be faster, I admit there would be a few things I would miss."

Surprised, Temari looked up at him. "Like what?"

He turned his head so he faced her, his dark eyes smoldering with some unindentifiable emotion as he stated, "On a flying machine, I would not have as much time to get to know a wonderful woman like you."

Temari fought against the blush rising into her cheeks, but ultimately lost. It took a great effort to tear her gaze away from Itachi's. She grasped a handful of her skirt in a tight fist as she fought back the hot tears suddenly stinging her eyes. "I'm nothing like you think I am." It hurt so much to say the words, to admit the truth she'd been trying to hide the whole voyage thus far.

Once again, Itachi's hand tightened over hers slightly. "Perhaps you're not seeing yourself clearly enough," he said gently.

Unfortunately she knew herself much better than Itachi ever could, particularly since they'd only be on _Titanic_ for a week (or, more likely, _less_ than a week), but she didn't say so. She only smiled slightly and declined to speak, deciding to let him have the last word. Temari didn't want to argue the matter for several reasons, not the least of which because she didn't want to give away too many of her secrets. Itachi had a way of inspiring confidences, and she'd already given away far more than she'd ever intended.

Refocusing on the tour, they lightly touched on the first class writing room for women, smoking room for men, the lounge, the reception room, and the dining saloon. When they reached the Parisián Restaurant, Itachi leaned over and said, "If you're up for it, I'd like to take you there for the meal tonight."

Temari bit her lower lip as she looked around the spacious room, admiring the decór based on a place she'd never been but always secretly wanted to go. "All right," she finally gave in. "Thank you."

Itachi's warm smile rewarded her, and as they moved on, Temari found herself a little more able to enjoy herself. She idly wondered if he was trying to help keep her out of second class and away from Hidan, and entertained the thought of letting him in on at least part of her secret. No way she could stay away from the man on her own, but she still felt less than entirely sure she could completely trust Itachi. Thus far, her encounters with men not her brothers had not given her the greatest opinion of the gender. But perhaps it was time for her to let go of her prejudices and allow Itachi to offer a different, better, experience upon which she could base her opinions.

Regardless, she had the rest of the afternoon to make her decision. At the same time, she needed to decide whether to let Tenten in on the secret, since she would also need the other woman's help. The only snag was the fact she didn't want to put Itachi or Tenten in danger. And if she were to tell either or both the truth, she would _definitely_ put both of them in great danger.

So many decisions to make, and so little time in which to make them. What was she to do?

As they doubled back and passed by the gymnasium again, Temari paused to study one of the covered lifeboats secured to the deck. "How many are on board?" she asked.

"Twenty," Itachi replied. "Four more than legally required."

Sasuke, having overheard their conversation, dropped back a couple of steps to stand next to them. "On an unsinkable ship, though, they won't be needed. I suppose it's still comforting to know they're there, though."

"What's the capacity for each lifeboat?" Temari asked Mr. Andrews, who had come back when he noticed some of the party had stopped.

"In Ireland, we tested each with seventy strong men," he said. "So there is plenty of room on each. But, as the younger Mr. Uchiha mentioned, the _Titanic_ is a strongly designed and built ship, if I may be allowed to say. I built the deck wider so there would be room for more, but it was ultimately decided what we have are plenty enough. I assure you, Miss Sabaku, those are all the lifeboats you'll need." With a reassuring smile, he turned and continued walking, taking turns answering Sasuke's and Mikoto's questions.

"Even at full capacity, there aren't enough lifeboats for everyone aboard." Temari offered the one she'd been examining one last long look before she slid her arm through Itachi's again and allowed him to lead her away.

"I noticed that yesterday," he said. "I heard Mr. Ismay mention at dinner last night _Titanic_ isn't full to capacity on this trip, but there are still around 2,200 people on board. With only twenty lifeboats, there's not even room for half." He shook his head. "Mr. Andrews is right though, I suppose. On a ship built to be unsinkable, they're really not needed."

When they started approaching the area leading toward second class, Itachi abruptly excused himself and Temari from the tour. Mr. Andrews graciously accepted their bowing out, but Mikoto hung back for a moment to check to make sure everything was all right.

"I'm feeling a little tired," Temari said quickly. "I'll be fine, though."

The explanation seemed to satisfy her, and Mrs. Uchiha took off to catch up with her younger son and Mr. Andrews. Itachi took Temari's arm and led her back through the labyrinth of halls, then up the Grand Staircase to the alcove at the top where a number of benches and chairs had been set up. He assisted her into one of the chairs, then took the one next to it, with a little table between them.

"I figured you would rather stay here," Itachi said as he settled into his chair.

"Certainly," Temari agreed. "And you were right."

"About what?"

"About my not wanting to spend my days locked in my cabin," she said, keeping her gaze focused on the staircase. There weren't too many people coming up or going down it, considering the hour, but it wouldn't be long before the luncheon crowd started trickling in. "Yesterday afternoon, I learned it _is_ rather lonely."

A slow smile began to curl Itachi's lips. "So I'm guessing you would not protest spending every day in first class with me between now and when we arrive in New York?"

Temari looked down at her hands, primly folded on her lap. She studied them for a long moment, noting the slight roughness acquired from work, but not so much as to be noticeable from a distance. She didn't belong in first class; they both knew it, but her sense of self-preservation overrode the feeling of being unwelcomed by the senior Mr. Uchiha. "I would not protest _too_ much," she clarified.

Itachi's smile widened into a grin, one which almost completely transformed his face. He was _extremely_ handsome straightfaced, she had already noticed. But when he grinned, he was positively, _devastatingly_ good looking. "I'll work on that, then, during our time together."

She sensed the conversation veering toward more personal notes, so she quickly tried to think of another topic they could discuss. One she could control, preferably, so it wouldn't be veer in the direction of _personal_ again. "So what was your favorite part of the tour?" she finally thought to ask.

"It's difficult to choose. The gymnasium interested me, as well as the Turkish bath and the squash racquet court. I've never been particularly interested in the sport myself, but since there's one on board, it makes the _Titanic_ seem all the more luxurious and suited to the passenger's comfort. My favorite part, though? Probably the Parisián Restaraunt. But that's probably more due to my dining companion later than the actual atmosphere of the place." Itachi gazed at her with his shining dark eyes, a hint of a smile playing about his lips, before his expression smoothed to neutrality and he turned the question back on her. "And what was _your_ favorite part of the tour, then, Temari?"

And _just_ when Temari had been thinking the conversation was in safe territory! It would never do to let Itachi know she'd been paying more attention to him than the rooms they were passing, so she spouted off the first thing which came to mind. "The women's writing room." They had only glimpsed it briefly as they passed, of course, but the decór had been fresh and feminine, making it look like a place where Temari wouldn't mind spending her hours.

"Naturally," Itachi replied, tilting his head toward her. "I would expect no less. Mother's been in there once, and she described it as 'the perfect place to spend my afternoon reading and writing those letters I've been meaning to pen our whole trip.'" Clearing his throat to signal the end of his falsetto imitation of his mother, he smiled again. "Though, to be honest, I think she was more interested in talking with the other women in the room than actually doing anything so constructive. Our friends in America will have to wait until we get there to actually hear anything from Mother about our trip."

"I suppose she could use the Marconi wireless," Temari mentioned. She remembered the cramped room they'd passed, in which a young man had been sitting tapping away at the control board which filled the majority of the room.

"Hmm, true. I've heard several other passengers talking about sending messages out today, though, so I think we should probably keep that theory to ourselves. We wouldn't want to overload the poor messengers, would we?"

Remembering the way the man in the Marconi room had been concentrating on his equipment, so focused he hadn't even heard the door open or Mr. Andrews's voice as he briefly described the room and its function, made Temari instantly agree. "Perhaps once the excitement of having such a technological marvel on board dies down your mother can send a few messages."

"An excellent plan." Itachi glanced toward the stairs, and Temari followed his gaze to see the number of people congregating there had increased. She spotted Mikoto with her husband, and Sasuke a few steps away in conversation with a tall, shapely blonde woman and another young man who looked to be approximately Sasuke's own age. "Hmm. I wonder who Sasuke's found to talk to. He looks like he's putting those stuffy etiquette lessons he and I had to endure to good use, though."

Temari slid her gaze back toward Fugaku, who was thankfully standing with his back to the alcove and had not noticed her or Itachi. She felt afraid to move, or look at him for too long, for fear he would turn and see her, so she quickly returned her attention to Itachi's younger brother and the people with whom he conversed. "From your words, I suppose it's not too much of an assumption for me to think your brother doesn't much care for the social niceties?"

Itachi shrugged. "He's not rude, but he finds the 'social niceties,' as you call them, rather tedious. I do, too, really. Things were a lot simpler when we were younger, and I think Sasuke misses that more than I do. But, in other ways, he also fits in with the social set a lot better than I."

"You both have your strengths and weaknesses, as do we all," Temari said diplomatically. Then, as most of the crowd started down the steps, "It looks like it's a little closer to luncheon than we had originally thought."

Getting to his feet, Itachi bowed slightly and held a hand out to assist her to rise. "Are you particularly interested in dining in the saloon?" he asked as they started toward the staircase.

"Why?" Temari asked suspiciously.

Before Itachi could reply, Sasuke caught sight of them. "Ah! Itachi, Miss Sabaku!" He waved them over, and the couple had no choice but to join him. "I'd like you to meet Tsunade Senju and her grandson, Naruto Uzumaki. Mrs. Senju, Naruto, this is my brother, Itachi Uchiha, and our friend Miss Temari Sabaku."

Even as she admired Sasuke's smooth introduction of her, Temari curtsied in the way she'd been doing almost her entire life, keeping her eyes focused on the floor and her hands folded before her. "A pleasure to meet you," she said, after other greetings had been exchanged by all.

"We were all just discussing sharing a table for luncheon," Mrs. Senju mentioned. Temari kept her gaze glued to the woman's face, mostly to keep from gawking at the amazing diamond-and-emerald net necklace which matched her dress and the heavy combs confining her blonde hair to the top of her head. The woman's jewels, dress, and bearing fairly shouted "old money." While Temari was no stranger to her type of people, she found it distinctly uncomfortable to be conversing with one of them, particularly since she seemed to think her a social equal and treated her as such.

"While it would be a pleasure to dine with new friends," Itachi said, tone apologetic, "Miss Sabaku and I were just departing for luncheon in the Verandah Café."

"I've heard good things about the place," Tsunade said. "I've also heard it's more for the younger set, so sadly I've not gotten to try it out myself. But I'm sure all the food there is excellent, particularly if it's anything like they serve in the dining saloon."

"I ate there last night with Shino and Hana, remember, Grandmother?" Naruto replied. His voice was low and raspy, his tone offering the impression of bottled up excitement just waiting to burst out and ignite. With his shock of spiky yellow hair, wide bright blue eyes, and the orange jacket he wore, his appearance offered credence to Temari's private assessment of his being a naturally bright and cheerful person.

"You wouldn't let me forget it, regardless," his grandmother replied dryly. "And, so, how was the food?"

"Good," Naruto replied cheerfully.

"Naturally." Tsunade's amber eyes turned back to Itachi and Temari, the humor in her expression making her look several years younger than she already did. "We won't keep you from enjoying it yourself, then. It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Uchiha, Miss Sabaku."

"I suppose I must now accept your invitation to dine at the Verandah Café," Temari said as Tsunade, Naruto, and Sasuke moved to join Mikoto and Fugaku going down the steps. "Otherwise I'll seem quite unappreciative to you."

"You don't _have_ to accept it." Itachi's hand lingered at her lower back as they descended the stairs. "I wouldn't think differently of you if you didn't. I just thought you might enjoy eating somewhere else."

"But we're already supposed to dine in the Parisián tonight," Temari softly protested. "It would be too much-"

"It's not too much," Itachi said firmly, but not unkindly. "But if it will make you feel uncomfortable, we will not go."

They had a delightful meal at the Verandah Café before Itachi quietly accompanied Temari back to her room so she could rest and then change for dinner that night. As Temari closed the door to her and Tenten's stateroom behind her, she shook her head and let out a reluctant laugh. Even as Itachi encouraged her to do things she had never done before, and at times felt slightly uncomfortable doing, she admitted how glad she felt for all his efforts, because she was also having a great deal of fun.

_But,_ she thought grimly as she slid off her shoes and reclined on her bed, _I can never let myself forget this cannot last. It is too dangerous, and Itachi and I too different. Not to mention, if he ever found out the truth about me, he would never want to see me again._

Closing her eyes, Temari laid one arm over her aching eyes and the other over her churning stomach. _As soon as the _Titanic_ docks in New York, I am going to have to put an end to all this. Though it is horribly selfish of me, for as long as I'm on board, I'm going to let myself enjoy his lavish attentions. I have no doubt they will be the only I shall ever receive._

The painful thought chased her into sleep, filling her dreams with discomfort and a hideous foreboding that she could not explain to herself even upon waking.

***~To Be Continued~***

_**Author's Ending Notes:**_ So many exciting things going on! I really hope you enjoyed reading this chapter - it certainly was great fun to write. The next chapter will include their meal at the Parisián, as well as some other exciting things. I look forward to seeing you all then, and thanks for reading this chapter!


	7. Truth

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairings, etc.

**Special Thanks:** goes out to _alanasometimes_, _Darkrai_, _PrettyInPink_, and _rao hyuga 18_ for all your wonderful, supportive reviews! Also thanks to those who have added this story to their alerts and favorites, you all are awesome, too!

**Author's Note:** Sorry I'm so late in updating! I've been sick twice since the last time I updated, and I'm basically just now feeling recovered enough to get this chapter up. Another familiar face shows up in this chapter, along with a lot more Itachi/Temari interaction, and I hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading!

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***~Chapter VII~***

_~Truth~_

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Friday, April 12, 1912 - 8:00 P.M.

Itachi could not readily identify what, exactly, about Temari had changed since he saw her earlier in the afternoon. But as they settled into their seats across the table from each other in the Parisián, he noted the tension in her expression and shoulders had eased, her eyes were a little brighter, and her smile seemed to come more easily. Evidently she'd made some sort of decision, and he more than halfway hoped it had something to do with him.

The low hum of conversation around them, the candles in the middle of the tables, and the richer, darker colors of the general decór came together to form an intimate setting for his and Temari's meal. While they nibbled on their _hors d'oevres_ and waited for their second course to be served, Itachi repeatedly wiped his hands surreptitiously on his napkin to keep them from getting too sweaty. He couldn't explain exactly _why_ he felt so jittery, except perhaps for the fact he had never dined alone with a woman before, one he admired or otherwise. His uncharacteristic nervousness prevented him from thinking of a single thing to discuss, so they spent most of the first few minutes at the table locked in uncomfortable silence.

Finally, as bowls of cream of barley soup were placed before them, Itachi ventured a topic of conversation he hoped would be comfortable for both of them. "Have you always lived in England, or did you travel there?"

Temari visibly gulped down the genteel mouthful of water she'd just taken and very carefully set down her crystal goblet. She'd politely declined the wine Itachi had ordered and instead requested a glass of the fresh water kept on board. "I was born in England, and lived in London for a while," she said at last. "My relocation to Southampton was more recent." Picking up her spoon, she swirled it through her soup, absently smiling at the patterns she made with the tip of her silverware. "What about you, Itachi? Have you always lived in America?"

"Born and raised," he admitted. "We lived in a very small town in Connecticut when I was a boy. But once my father made his business deals and we - _advanced_ in the world, we moved to New York. He decided being closer to the business pulse of America, as it were, would be advantageous for our family. That, and the fact the social set finds its beginnings and endings in New York. So we left our home and moved away from everything we'd ever known."

Turquoise eyes glowing with sympathy, Temari leaned forward slightly over her soup bowl. "Do I sense some bitterness in your tone, Mr. Uchiha?" she asked gently.

Itachi felt a reluctant smile crack the mask of tenseness tightening his features. "Perhaps a little," he admitted. "I was twelve when Father moved us, Sasuke only eight. My little brother was so caught up in the excitement of moving, discovering new people and new surroundings and such, I don't think all the changes really bothered him very much. I was older, though. I absolutely hated leaving everything I'd ever known, but I played along with his enthusiasm. Please don't misunderstand, I appreciate the opportunity it gave me to go to college and acquire a fine, thorough education; I'm glad my mother is now able to pamper herself with fine things. But still. . ." He shook his head, trying to think of the right words to use to describe his thoughts. "I think my family lost something important during our change in status and location. We all used to be so close. Though I still share that same closeness with Mother and Sasuke, it feels like Father has distanced himself from all of us. He's a completely different man from the one I knew during my boyhood, and I _hate_ that." He forced a smile onto his face while reaching for his wine glass with one slightly shaking, slightly sweaty hand. "But what a horrible topic of dinner conversation! I apologize for ruining the mood with my life story."

Smiling gently, Temari shook her head. "Not at all," she said. "While I regret what it cost you, I'm also glad your family advanced in society. After all, we probably never would have met if you had not. And, no matter what happens, I _am_ infinitely grateful I've had the chance to meet and get to know you." Before Itachi could respond to Temari's equally gratifying and worrisome speech, she continued wistfully, "I do empathize with you. Any sort of major change inevitably wreaks havoc with familial ties, no matter their closeness."

Those words screamed of personal experience, making Itachi bite the tip of his tongue to keep from asking her about it. Short as their acquaintance was, he'd quickly gotten the picture: at any reference to her past she immediately clammed up, refusing to discuss her personal history, period, no exceptions. While her brothers didn't appear to be taboo conversationally, anything having to do with Temari herself was off limits. A shame, really, since he ardently longed to know more about her. "And I'm thankful for our having the chance to get to meet and know each other, as well," he replied simply.

Temari blushed and ducked her head shyly. Before either of them could continue the conversation or change topics, a waiter cleared away their second course and served the third - salmon, mousseline sauce, and cucumber for Temari; sauté of chicken with lyonnaise and creamed carrots for Itachi. For a while they shelved all personal conversation, eating in contented silence except for an occasional admiring comment about the restaurant itself, their wait staff, or the quality and taste of the food. When they eventually reached the dessert course, they agreed they'd just shared their best meal so far on board the ship.

"I'm glad you talked me into accompanying you here," Temari said. She shot a quick glance around, then daintily licked her spoon before sticking it back into her dish of French ice cream.

Itachi quickly swallowed his most recent bite of peaches in chartreuse jelly and pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. Some times Temari came very close to appearing the consummate lady, offset by those occasions when she acted endearingly childlike. That mystifying contradiction, along with so many other things, drew him to her. He yearned with a sudden, fierce desire to know all the facets of her personality, all the little details which came together to form Temari Sabaku.

At one point during their trip, when Itachi admitted to his mother how reluctant he felt about choosing a bride after they returned to America, she had smiled and said, "When walking along the _Champs-Elyseés_ in Paris, imagine yourself accompanied by some lady of your acquaintance, conversing with her and enjoying the sights. The one who just naturally and effortlessly fits into that image will be the right one for you, my son."

Their conversation had taken place in Italy. Once they reached France and he took that stroll along the _Champs-Elyseés_, Itachi followed his mother's advice. He imagined himself escorting either this lady or that one or yet another from among the many eligible females back home; but none of them possessed that absolute sense of _rightness_. He knew with unshakeable certainty he would not find the love and happiness his heart and soul craved with any of them; and despite the equal certainty of his father's extreme displeasure, he resolved to refuse committing to a marriage that would be an unending nightmare of regret and misery.

But now, sitting across from Temari, he closed his eyes for a moment. He visualized the _Champs-Elyseés_, every sight and sound and smell; imagined himself strolling along it again. Only this time, instead of any of the American women he'd pictured before, he thought of himself walking its length with Temari on his arm. It took fewer than half a dozen steps for him to feel the sense of rightness in his chest so woefully lacking in those earlier scenarios. He'd known Temari less than two full days; without question so much still remained a mystery about her. But he knew to the depths of his being what his decision would have been had he known her in Paris: He wanted to spend the rest of his life with _her_, not with any of the shallow, one-dimensional women waiting in America. Though wellbred and as fashionably beautiful as money could make them, they hid only catty comments and flirty smiles behind their fans, leaving his heart cold, his loins unmoved. But Temari sparkled among the dull sameness of society's so-called best like a multi-faceted, living, breathing jewel among lifeless stones. Although she kept so much about herself concealed, the things she had allowed him to glimpse revealed her to be loyal, caring, passionate, loving: the kind of woman he'd be proud to win for his wife.

He only hoped to prove himself worthy of her.

Having come to his decision, he opened his eyes. Far from noticing his drifting off into a reverie, Temari's own eyes were closed as she polished off her dish of ice cream, her lips still sealed around her spoon. His skin tingled when he heard her low moan of satisfaction, just barely audible over the hum of conversation from the other patrons. His hyper awareness of her, every move and sound she made, made him all the more certain they were meant for each other. The present difference in their class and circumstances and life experiences didn't matter. He _loved_ her, unconditionally and unquestioningly. From this moment forward he intended to devote every fiber of his being to doing anything and everything necessary for them to build a life together.

Temari's eyes opened and focused on him. A delicate blush colored her fine cheekbones as she lowered her spoon, quickly licking her lips with the tip of her tongue to get rid of any trace of cream left there. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "Am I being rude?"

Feeling even more besotted than even a second ago, Itachi quickly shook his head. "Not at all," he assured her. _I'm a fool,_ he lamented quietly to himself. _A lovesick, bumbling idiot_. Picking up his own spoon, he dug into his own dessert again, suddenly anxious to finish it so they could leave the restaurant. Even though now slightly soggy from neglect, the fresh peaches still tasted delicious. It didn't take him long to finish eating.

As they left the Parisián, Temari tucked her hand into the crook of Itachi's arm. "Thank you," she said, looking up at him earnestly. "That was, I believe, the best meal I have had in my entire life."

Itachi smiled down at her and squeezed her hand on his arm, wishing he had the freedom to lean over and kiss the side of her head, her smooth cheek, her pink lips... Swiftly shutting _that_ thought down in its tracks, he cleared his throat and nodded. "Thank you again for agreeing to accompany me," he said. "I agree the meal was delicious, but for my part I think it owed most of its pleasantness to the company."

The evening, as all the others they had enjoyed so far on their trip, continued cold but clear. For a moment they paused to enjoy the extravagant abundance of brilliant stars before slipping into the warmth of the ship's interior. It was growing far too chilly to wander the outside decks, although the walls partially enclosing the promenade offered some protection from the wind. Back inside, they leisurely ascended one set of stairs on the second, smaller, Grand Staircase located between the third and fourth funnels. At the end of a short stroll down the hall they found themselves in the lounge, where the band from the dining saloon now played for those gathered in its luxurious surroundings.

Itachi scanned the room from the doorway, relieved when he didn't see his father in the room. He had undoubtedly once again retired to the smoking room further along the hall with other gentleman after the meal. His mother, seated on one of the many couches with the Countess of Rothes and Mrs. Senju, appeared totally involved in what looked to be a lighthearted conversation. Sasuke, Naruto, and another man Itachi didn't recognize occupied chairs in one corner close to the outside wall. Their conversation appeared to be more serious in nature than the women's.

The band finished one song with a flourish, then started in on Bizet's _Carmen._ Itachi leaned over slightly to speak in Temari's ear. "Where would you like to sit, my dear?" The term of endearment rolled off his tongue before he could stop it, but he refused to take it back.

Temari shivered slightly and gazed about the room, quite obviously avoiding looking in his direction. "Perhaps over there?" She indicated a pair of wing chairs set an angle to each other, a fair distance from the band in an area near the mantlepiece, not too crowded but still respectably filled. Nodding his agreement, Itachi guided her through the room and waited for her to be seated before taking his own chair. While he tapped his foot idly in time to the music, Temari's gaze drifted around the room. Occasionally she remarked on different aspects of the splendid room: the beautiful leaded glass windows; the candelabra-style wall sconces; the statuette on the mantlepiece. "It's so beautiful," she said softly. "What is it?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "I appreciate art when I look at it, but to be honest, I know nothing beyond whether I think it looks good or not."

"It looks Greek," Temari decided. She looked away from the fireplace, her eyes tracing the beautifully carved wooden supports rising from the carpeted floors up to the equally elaborate ceilings. "Everything here is so grand and elegant," she said softly. "Not to say the places in second class are less than adequate, because they _aren't_, they're more comfortable than I ever imagined them being. But here..." She shook her head, obviously at a loss for words.

He nodded. "I saw the differences yesterday as I looked for you. I noticed the doors to the cabins are much closer together, the dining saloon to be much smaller and less grand." Recalling each image into his mind as he referenced it, he once again mentally noted each subtle but definite difference.

"All this is so _much_." Temari's lovely eyes shimmered suspiciously as she continued looking around, slowly rubbing the toe of her slipper across the thickly plush carpet beneath their feet. "I don't belong here, I don't deserve to be here, and yet here I am all the same. It's - almost - overwhelming."

Itachi leaned toward her slightly, searching his heart for the right words to reassure her. "I'm glad you're here. So are Mother and Sasuke, as well as many others. I promise you, though, if it were safe for you to remain there, I would be just as happy to come down to second class to be with you."

Temari's eyes shot to his face, wide open and full of vulnerability. "But you're so far above me in social-"

He shook his head firmly, stopping the rest of her sentence. "Please, Temari, remember what I told you of my past during dinner. I didn't start my life at this 'elevated' level. I don't think I'll ever truly consider myself a part of society; to be honest, I'm not sure I _want_ to. What I do want is to keep you _safe_. And not just for the duration of this voyage. I realize we've known each other for only a couple of days, but I've never felt so comfortable with anyone in my entire life. That's how I know-" he hesitated, studying her expression and gathering his courage before daring to continue "-I want to be with you. For the rest of our lives."

She blinked once, obviously shocked. What little bit of color residing in her cheeks drained away, leaving her looking as white as a sheet of paper and just as frail. Her expression froze into absolute blankness, with something Itachi hoped was not, but feared was, horror darkening her eyes.

_That's it,_ he mourned quietly. _I've destroyed everything. I've frightened her. She'll never want to see me or speak to me again. But I've got to protect her-!_

Suddenly Temari moved, drawing in a deep breath as she forced herself to assume a polite, bland mask. She lowered her gaze to her lap. Her hands still visibly trembled as she ran them over her skirt, smoothing away nonexistent wrinkles as her lips soundlessly opened and closed several times. Clearly she wasn't as calm as she attempted to appear. After a few tense moments, she drew in another deep breath. A jerky cadence marred what should have been a smooth inhale, and Itachi felt doubly miserable upon hearing it. _Congratulations, Uchiha. Aren't you absolutely brilliant? You've made her cry._ He opened and closed his mouth just as wordlessly, wanting to say something to comfort her; fearing if he did, it would be the wrong thing and make everything worse.

"Excuse me?"

Itachi turned in his seat, surprised to see a very young man in full evening kit standing at his left elbow. "Yes?"

The unknown man offered a quick, stiff bow. He smiled as he straightened, but Itachi noticed how his extremely pale face and ink-dark eyes lacked any of the warmth associated with the expression. "I am something of an artist," he said, the slightest hint of an unidentifiable accent shading his voice. "I have been traveling with my family, and while I usually am more inclined to draw animals and birds and landscapes, I saw you and your lady from across the lounge. Something about you both struck me, so I made this sketch. I apologize for any mistakes as it is very rough and quickly done. I hope you and your lady will accept it?" Another bow, and as his body dipped forward, he extended his hands. His fingers were long and tapered, quite obviously those of an artist. Smudges of dark color on the fingers of his right hand gave evidence of the charcoal pencil he'd apparently just been using up until a few moments ago.

Temari leaned over the arm of her chair curiously. Allowing his gaze to drop down to the paper held out before him, Itachi drew in a sharp breath of surprise, heard Temari echo it. The sketch was small, drawn on a piece of paper perhaps eight or nine inches square, the background indeed only rough at best, merely hinted outlines denoting the presence of carpet and walls, pillars and windows. The piece focused on the two people in the center and was drawn with such incredible detail one almost expected to see movement or hear speech at any moment. At first the pespective of the drawings puzzled Itachi; rather than being drawn sitting slightly sideways in their chairs with their heads turned toward each other, he and Temari were depicted nearly full-on, as in traditional portraits. It took a moment before he suddenly realized why: the sketch of Temari on the left was clearly meant to be from Itachi's point of view, the right of himself from Temari's. And how vividly he'd captured the emotions as well! - from the wonderment on Temari's face, chin lifted and head slightly turned as she looked around her, to Itachi's look of protective tenderness as he watched her.

Reaching out, Itachi took the page very carefully, not wanting to damage it in any way. "This is - incredible beyond words," he said softly, truly grateful. "Thank you. How may I possibly recompense you?"

Straightening once more, the other man quickly shook his head and held up a restraining hand. "I require no payment. You owe me nothing," he said, smiling his emotionless smile once again. "The beauty of the moment demanded to be preserved. I merely obeyed that command. That you and your lady find it acceptable is payment enough for me." He nodded to Itachi, bowed toward Temari, and started to turn away.

"Wait!" Itachi said urgently. The man halted and turned his head to look over his shoulder, one coal black eyebrow arched questioningly. "May we at least know your name?"

A long pause followed, as if the other wondered whether to divulge it. Finally he pointed to two Oriental-looking characters in the lower righthand corner and said simply, "Sai." He walked off, quite obviously not to be deterred this time.

Itachi leaned closer to Temari. Holding the sketch so she could see it clearly he said with quiet awe, "I visited a great many museums in a great many countries over the duration of our trip, and saw a lot of what the world considers great art. I think we've just been given something very rare and special."

Looking much less pale and anxious, Temari bent to examine it more closely. She unconsciously lifted one hand to press her fingers against her cheek. "I don't know very much about art," she said, her tone just as hushed, "but I think you're right. This is almost like looking into a mirror."

"Yes, it is," Itachi agreed. If Sai considered such a breathtaking exhibition of sheer talent as deserving an apology for its quickness and roughness, what would the young man be capable of producing given sufficient time as well as the proper tools and conditions?

Temari, still studying the sketch intently, suddenly made a soft, quickly stifled sound. She raised her head, her wide, startled eyes darting up and across the room. Itachi followed her gaze across the width of the lounge to where the artist sat talking to a man with large eyes and a kind expression, and a woman with dark eyes and hands like her son's. Sai never looked away from his conversation; but by the way his head tilted ever so slightly in their direction he obviously knew Temari and Itachi were looking at him.

At last Temari let out a long sigh and moved as if to stand. "I'm sorry, Itachi," she said, the faintest hint of a quiver in her voice. "Even though it's been a lovely day, I'm feeling very tired. I think I'd like to go back to my stateroom now."

Itachi tugged out his pocketwatch, glanced at it, then did a double-take. It was close to midnight; they'd been in the lounge much longer than he'd thought. "Of course," he replied. He promptly rose, then handed Temari the drawing before assisting her from her chair. A quick glance across the room showed Mikoto and Tsunade still deep in conversation, though the Countess had retired. Sasuke, Naruto, and the other man had all vanished as well. The band still played, but to a visibly dwindling audience. From the slower tempo of their songs, the musicians were beginning to wind down as well.

Itachi and Temari walked in silence toward the entrance to second class. Her hand in the crook of his elbow maintained some slight physical contact between them, but he felt keenly the lack of closeness of minds they'd shared earlier in the evening. He mourned the sudden distance resulting from his clumsily blurted confession and wondered with some desperation what he might do to repair the damage. As they crossed into second class territory and their time together shortened, he finally gathered enough resolve to speak. "I want to apologize for upsetting you earlier," he said, looking down at the top of her golden head, "and hope I have not offended you beyond forgiveness. I spoke grossly out of turn. I promise I shall not repeat my grave mistake again. Please allow me the privilege of continuing to protect you during the remainder of the journey."

Temari looked up at him with tired eyes, shocking him with how in the short time since they'd left the lounge, dark circles had appeared on the delicate skin beneath her eyes, standing out like bruises against the utter paleness of her face. She appeared completely exhausted. He noticed then how her fingers gripped his arm so tightly he would undoubtedly bear marks on his skin when she let go; she also leaned more heavily on him than before.

"You have done nothing to offend me," she said, her lifeless tone barely above a whisper. "You owe me no apology." Dropping her gaze again she said nothing more until they stood outside her stateroom, where she turned away from him to avoid meeting his eyes. She unlocked the door, but did not open it immediately. Instead, she allowed her hand to linger on the knob as she said softly, "It is I who should apologize to you. But - I don't know how. Good night, Mr. Uchiha." She vanished behind the door, closing and locking it before he could say anything in response.

Swallowing hard, his vision still full of the pain and exhaustion on Temari's face, Itachi took a half-step forward to lay his hand against the door separating him from her. The sound of soft voices speaking in query and response on the other side caught his attention. He took a step closer, pressing his ear against the wood tightly in an effort to hear better, uncaring if anyone saw him, or what they would think if they did. He _had_ to know if she was all right before he left.

From inside the stateroom, he heard Tenten murmur something, then the sound of a sob, muffled and quickly stifled. Itachi immediately drew back his hand to knock on the door; but before he could, he heard Temari speak, her voice ragged and listless. "I don't deserve him, Tenten. I never will. And if I let this go on any longer, I know I'll be the cause of so much trouble and suffering for him, if not even his destruction. But-" another racking sob reached his ears "-so help me, Tenten, I think I love him."

As he heard Tenten try to comfort the weeping Temari, Itachi closed his eyes, allowing his head to roll slightly against the door so his forehead rested against the wood instead of his ear. His fist landed soundlessly against the painted surface, wanting fiercely to beat it down, rush inside, and take her in his arms; knowing he couldn't. _Oh, Temari._

Although Itachi refused to listen intently enough to pick up any more words, he stood outside the door until well after midnight, when there finally was only silence from within. He made his way back up to first class, blindly navigating the halls until he somehow, miraculously, made it to his and Sasuke's stateroom.

His brother was still sitting up in bed, reading, when Itachi entered. Sasuke took one look at Itachi's face and immediately tossed the book and blankets away. He stood and came to stand in front of him. "Itachi, what's wrong?"

"Temari," Itachi replied hoarsely. He moved past his brother and headed for his wardrobe, his throat clogged with the intensity of his emotions. Rather than opening it, though, he rested a forearm on it and leaned his forehead against it. "I can protect her from Hidan. But how - _how_, Sasuke - can I protect her from herself?"

When Itachi turned around, Sasuke still stood right where he'd left him, a somber expression on his narrow face. "You love her, don't you, big brother?"

It didn't even occur to him to try to deny it. Feeling suddenly very old and tired, Itachi nodded once, slowly.

Covering the distance between them in four quick strides, Sasuke stopped in front of Itachi and spoke six serious words he'd not uttered in a very long time. "What can I do to help?"

***~To Be Continued~***

_**Author's Ending Notes:**_ I've been _so_ excited to introduce Sai, and I'm so glad we've finally gotten to that chapter! I really hope you all liked his part, and this chapter in general. I think Itachi and Temari's interactions in this chapter are some of my favorites in the story thus far, I really enjoyed writing their growing closeness. Thank you so much for reading this chapter, and I hope you enjoyed it!


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